Rising Storm
by Katey123
Summary: Forced to flee her beloved village, Sakura's only chance of survival is to place her faith in a broken shell of a man, unaware that his very existence threatens to shatter her slim trust by exposing her to a dreadful truth.
1. This Is War

Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto.

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**_Rising Storm_

_Chapter One: This Is War_**

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"Get out of here!"

The sharp, irate tones sliced through the deafening sound of raindrops thundering to earth, splashing over two upturned faces, dribbling down their necks and seeping into their clothing. Ignoring the unpleasant sensation of sludge oozing in between her toes, Sakura remained crouched down in the mud – which, several hours before had been a serviceable road – beside her fallen friend, blanching at Ino's harsh words.

The medic shuddered and bit her lip, blinking tears away as she refused to acknowledge the truth behind those words. Every fibre of her being screamed mentally that there was still time, that it was not yet over but almost involuntarily her eyes were drawn to a direct contradiction. A single kunai silhouetted against the darkened sky, protruded from the stained, wet material covering her friend's abdomen. Blood trickled in tiny tributaries from the broken skin into the slushy mud, mixing in with the tepid rain water. Sakura lifted her head despairingly and exposed her taut, terrified face to the wrath of the heavens. The rain pummelled her face relentlessly, streaming off her skin in rivulets, seamlessly merging in with her salty tears. The road ahead lay deserted. To either side lay several motionless figures, whose distinguishing features remained concealed behind the masks that marked them as ANBU. Sakura shivered, having no desire to lift the porcelain masks, afraid of whom she might find. These days, it was difficult to tell the difference between those who had been enlisted and those who hadn't.

"No," she replied firmly and shook her head. There was a bright, defiant gleam in her eye; one which spoke of determination and friendship. "I'm not leaving".

One thing was certain; she would not leave her best friend alone here to die.

"Don't be stupid!" Ino glared angrily. "You'll get yourself killed".

Sakura shrugged noncommittally; acutely aware of the fact that reinforcements could arrive at the scene any second. Gently she eased Ino's quivering hands away from the wound and knelt at her side, feeling the mud claim her knees with a sickening squelch. Her trained medic's eye was able to ascertain very quickly that the wound, although serious was by no means fatal. Or at least, in the bright, sanitary rooms of Konoha Hospital surrounded by a horde of medics, she would recover. Out here, away from civilization and with a team of ANBU hot on their heels, her condition was critical.

Sakura knew that with her depleted chakra reserves she would be hard pressed to heal Ino to be fit for travel. Add a dozen or so highly skilled and dangerous shinobi and the task became damn near impossible. She shook her head in an attempt to dislodge her thoughts. Hope was all she had to cling to now. Hope that the rain had obliterated all traces of their trail, preventing the hunt from continuing.

"This is going to hurt," she warned the injured girl as she made ready to remove the hilt of the kunai from the wound.

"Like a bitch," Ino agreed, eyeing the kunai with no small amount of apprehension.

A second later and the blonde's stifled cry rang through the silent trees. The bloodied weapon clattered to the ground, rainwater washing it clean of the scarlet liquid.

Wasting no time, Sakura summoned the familiar green flow of chakra to her frozen, bone-tired fingers, wincing as pins and needles ricocheted up the length of her arm. However, upon transferring the chakra into Ino's body, she came across an unexpected barrier. Try as she might, she could not muster the strength to knit the flesh together and it was all she could do to let out a scream of frustration, amassing greater amounts of chakra at her fingertips.

"Sakura, stop," Ino seized her fingers and forced them away. "You'll only tire yourself out".

"No," Sakura countered stubbornly. There was still time, she argued, willing to cling onto hope, to continue denying the cold hard truth: that her chakra levels were perilously low and that her limbs were trembling with suppressed fatigue. "I can heal you!"

"No you can't!" Ino shouted, equally obstinate. Hiding a grimace, she forced herself into a sitting position so that – as was her intention – their eyes were level with each other. Her pale face was set into hard lines and her icy-blue eyes flashed with renewed anger and determination. "They'll be here any moment Sakura! You have neither the time nor energy to heal me and we both know that I'll never make it in this condition".

"But I-" Sakura stammered, eyes filled with unconcealed impotence. Jade eyes glanced around the area uncertainly. Two equally strong emotions vied for her attention: the need to protect her friend and the instinct to flee.

A brief pinprick of chakra flared less than a mile ahead. Sakura jumped to her feet in a flurry of panic. Her agitated movements reflected the positive maelstrom of turmoil that raged beneath the surface.

After a split-second of indecision, the medic reached out for Ino's left arm in an attempt to hoist her up out of the mud but the blonde swatted it away, shouting "Just go!"

Sakura snatched the arm back as though it had been burned, a tortured expression etched into her features. They were closer now. She could sense the crushing weight of their combined chakras and knew it was all over. She tasted bile in her throat and her legs were like jelly. Her knees buckled and she stumbled, barely managing to remain upright.

"Go!" Ino yelled again, her frantic tones injecting some sense of perspective into the indecisive, panicky medic.

And so, with one last agonized expression she left.

* * *

"That'll be ten ryo please". The bite of impatience in the man's tone was unmistakable, jerking the pink-haired medic out of her preoccupied state. A jolt of surprise ran through her as she met the irritated gaze of the surly shopkeeper and realised that she was holding up the queue.

"Oh right, yes, sorry," she apologised, fumbling with the clasp of her purse and counting out ten identical copper coins into his outstretched hand. Avoiding what she imagined was a very disapproving stare; Sakura snatched the newspaper off the counter and sauntered through the door wondering vaguely why she even bothered to read the news anymore.

Not one to arrive at the medical centre half an hour early, she located a free bench and – after ensuring it was free of chewing gum and the remnants of a hastily eaten lunch – sat down, intending to peruse the tabloid at her own leisure. Settling into a more comfortable position, she flipped the newspaper over and Danzou's sly, malicious face jumped out at her from the front page. She groaned and turned it over, ignoring the sudden nausea and white-hot fury the inky image had elicited. Despite knowing that the rest of the newspaper was likely to evoke similar feelings, Sakura decided to read it nonetheless. It was better to know what the enemy was saying, she figured.

Fifteen minutes later she threw it down in disgust. It was exactly the kind of mindless, brain-washing propaganda she had feared. The writers openly criticised and ridiculed the previous Hokages' methods of running the Village Hidden in the Leaves, portraying their decisions as weak and feeble-minded. But now there was cause for _hope_! Sakura twisted her mouth into a bitter, sneering grimace. With Danzou at the helm, Konoha was well on the way to claiming its rightful place as the most feared and revered of all the hidden villages. The paper announced that the Hokage had finally sanctioned the much-needed restructuring of the village, the abolishment of yet another tradition or law the he didn't agree with and the introduction of a new order Sakura had been dreading for weeks. The eradication of the original teams – or what was left of them – and the almost mandatory enrolment into ANBU for anyone who wished to continue in the shinobi profession. Oh and all in the name of progress of course!

Sakura knew that to refuse a position in ANBU was considered base-line treachery and that the penalty was death for anyone foolish enough to decline. She supposed she should be thankful that they hadn't tried to enlist her yet but perhaps they were content to let her slave away at the hospital, to watch as the Godaime's apprentice deteriorated; transforming from a strong kunoichi to nothing more than a common medic, of no use to anyone.

Sakura placed her head in her hands. It was four months to the day since Tsunade had passed away and yet the throbbing pains that wracked her body had not diminished in the least. The raw, aching hole in her chest had become a part of her now. It was almost as if the nerve-endings had dulled from such excessive stimulation, making the pain bearable and allowing her to function somewhat normally. Though there were still times when it would contract painfully, constricting her lungs and leaving her gasping for air as her eyes burned with anguish and grief.

The official report had been that Tsunade had died peacefully in her sleep, succumbing to the side effects of her prolonged comatose state. Sakura knew it was a lie. Being of a cautious nature, she had examined her shishou several times in the three days that had preceded her death and all the signs had indicated that Tsunade would recover. But she hadn't. Conveniently taking advantage of the confusion that ensued, Danzou had re-established himself as a potential candidate for the next Hokage and then it had only been a matter of time before he claimed the title.

She stared out across the small park, her hands absentmindedly twisting and tearing the scarred face over and over, rendering it unrecognisable. Her mind mulled over her current situation, looking at it from every angle but disappointingly, no new ideas sprang to mind. To openly oppose the Hokage was little better than signing her own death warrant, but to do nothing was almost criminal. On her way out, she dropped the paper into the lake, watching with perverse satisfaction as it sunk into the murky depths.

Seconds later, she realised she was late for work.

A distinct chemical odour assaulted her nostrils as she entered the imposing white medical centre, stopping only to don the mandatory mint green apron before striding down the hall to Ward Five. A few familiar faces greeted the medic as she strode across the shiny chequered floor, all wearing identical anxious, strained expressions that were all too common in these times. It was not surprising therefore that her tardiness went unchallenged. She passed a disheartened Shizune round the corner and sent her a small, encouraging smile which the dark-haired woman didn't return. With a pang, she remembered Shizune had taken the loss of Tsunade particularly hard. Frowning, Sakura slid the wooden door open and sidled into the ward, a full twenty minutes late.

"It's about time you showed up here, forehead," Ino remarked casually as she meticulously pulled off a pair of plastic gloves, finger by finger and carelessly tossed them into the waste bin, missing the pink-haired medic's face by inches.

"Shut it, pig," Sakura replied with no real malice, a smile unintentionally forming at the sound of her affectionate nickname.

Ino rolled her eyes. "Hachi needs another dose of antibiotics," she informed her friend. "I'm going to find some more syringes. I swear we've run out again!"

Irritated, the blonde flicked her long, silky hair and strode out of the ward to spend ten minutes berating the ineffective administration staff no doubt. They were all Danzou's employees of course. The friendly civilian workers had been dismissed almost instantly to be replaced with surly, uncommunicative shinobi whose job was to keep an eye out for insubordination rather than the running of the hospital.

"Have you seen Shizune?" Sakura asked in hushed tones as a clatter of heels announced the return of her friend twenty minutes later.

"Yes I have," Ino answered heavily, sobering at the very mention of their head medic. She covertly glanced around the room and lowered her voice further so that Sakura had to strain to hear the words. "Apparently she's not been performing her duties correctly. She has a meeting with the Hokage this afternoon".

They shared a meaningful look. Both kunoichi knew the significance of being summoned to the Hokage's office.

"Perhaps we should-" Sakura began horror-struck.

"No, it's best not to get involved," Ino answered uncomfortably, not meeting her friend's eyes.

"I wish Naruto were here," Sakura said wistfully, her quiet voice barely more than a whisper. "He'd know what to do".

"You know sometimes I think he had the right idea leaving the village," Ino commented lightly, twisting her fair flaxen hair into thick bands around her outstretched fingers thoughtfully. "God knows I'd love to be in his shoes right now".

Sakura laughed dryly. "Well he didn't really have a choice did he?"

"Still, I'd rather chance ANBU than face another day working in this hospital," Ino joked.

Wide-eyed, she stared at the blonde incredulously. To even suggest abandoning the village was nothing short of suicide but she knew better than to take Ino seriously. Still, the joke was in very bad taste. It was not unheard of for people to get arrested based on flippant remarks about the Hokage and the state of the village.

"Ino!" Sakura reprimanded sternly, half-expecting a horde of masked ANBU to descend on them any moment.

"Don't tell me you haven't thought about it too," Ino replied defiantly, her eyes glistening with fresh determination. "There's no life left for us here, Sakura. You know that. It's only a matter of time before we're branded traitors for being too close to Tsunade! We can't sit around and wait for that to happen!"

Reluctantly, Sakura conceded that she was right. However, she was very much against the idea of uprooting from the village, abandoning all that she had left in one night. Like a small child, she clung to the idea that Konoha was still her home. It appeared secure and comforting compared to the alternative; leave the village and become an outcast forever. Of course, there was still a chance that the citizens of Konoha would rebel but Sakura feared now that would never be the case. They had been hopeful to resist his tyranny in the beginning, she remembered. She had even actively taken part in schemes designed to dismember and undermine Danzou's control over Konoha but for all their efforts, they had had little success and the casualties had been high. Before long all attacks to the Hokage and his new regime had ceased entirely. It seemed as though his power over Konoha was immutable.

* * *

Pushing a stack of well-worn handbooks and heavy volumes to the floor, Sakura cleared a small space on her little sofa which sagged and groaned under her weight. She rested her aching feet on the small, stained coffee table and took a sip of what she considered to be a well-earned cup of coffee. A sharp knock at the door disturbed her brief moment of solitude. Frowning, she answered it, wondering who on earth could be calling at one in the morning.

It was Kakashi.

Surprised, she let him in. As he stepped over the threshold, she watched his eyes take in the stacks of dirty plates in the kitchen, the medical books strewn haphazardly across the apartment and several piles of dirty laundry and wished she'd had the foresight to clean it. Her sensei appeared more lined and drawn than she remembered. They had not spoken for a few weeks or indeed, move in the same circles anymore. The abolishment of all conversation that was neither strictly work-related or that of family members had seen to that. Sensing that it would be rude not to, she offered him a cup of coffee which he politely declined.

"How are you?" She asked tentatively once she'd ushered him into the cramped living room. Briefly, she speculated over the reason for his late night call but refrained from asking. If there was one thing she'd learned about Kakashi over the years, it was to never push him for an answer. She would just have to wait.

In answer to her question, the silver-haired shinobi gave a noncommittal shrug.

"I get by," he answered evasively which she took to mean that – against his better nature – he was compliant with the Hokage's rule, for the most part. Therefore it was almost certain that he had been reinstated as a member of ANBU. A sudden instinctive wariness crept up on the pink-haired medic as she gazed at her late night visitor which was strange for she'd never had reason to fear or distrust her sensei before.

"Same as everybody I guess," she replied with a sigh, unwilling to divulge her true thoughts now that seeds of doubt had begun to flourish in the recesses of her mind. As surely as she knew that things would never go back to the way they were, she suddenly wanted Kakashi gone. She could not bear to lose another friend whether it was to the clutches of death or to Danzou. She sank into the couch despondently, clutching the mug of coffee in a pathetic attempt to bring warmth back to her chilled skin.

A sudden creaking of springs alerted her to his presence at her side. Wide jade eyes met the steadfast grey gaze of her sensei who wore a surprisingly understanding expression. Sakura lowered her eyes, inwardly chiding herself for being so easy to read.

"How are things over at the hospital?" He asked conversationally, perhaps sensing the sharp, cryptic thoughts practically exuding from his student. "I hear it's been quite hectic what with being so understaffed and all those shortages".

"It's well... different," she supplied, relaxing a little under Kakashi's genial manner. His calm tones and laid-back attitude were familiar and never failed to set her at ease. Guilt wormed its way into her heart as she considered how easily she had doubted him. The rate at which her sharp suspicions had formed alarmed her and she wondered whether it was something Danzou had intended; to divide and conquer those who would oppose him from within, to make them turn against each other. "We're expected to work longer hours and the more difficult procedures have been delegated to those he deems capable of performing them". She wriggled her toes deeper into her cream fluffy slippers, not wanting to appear too discontent. "I can't really say I enjoy it".

"Anyway, I'm sure you don't want to hear my problems," she continued; a weak smile flitting across her cerise lips. "It's not often I get the chance to speak to one of my old teammates. It's been a while, hasn't it?"

Kakashi inclined his head. "It has indeed".

He allowed a pause in which a natural stillness crept over the room – not uncomfortable or embarrassing but rather contemplative. Sakura mulled over his words in silence as almost unbidden, a vision of a blindingly green meadow surrounded by woodland consumed her eyes. A meadow in which a single solitary figure stood amidst the perpetual sunshine; a book balanced in his outstretched hand and three young ninja crouched in the bushes, discussing how to best steal two innocuous bells that hung from his belt in hushed whispers. She shook her head, dispelling the vision and was surprised to find a tear clinging gently to her pink eyelashes. Bewildered, she wiped it on her sleeve. Only tiny smear on the soft cotton cardigan remained as evidence.

With an effort, she dragged herself back from her poisonous musings with the realisation that Kakashi had begun to speak again. After a few seconds of focussing on the rising and falling of his voice, she was able to distinguish between the vowels and understand what he was saying.

"Sometimes I wonder if I made the wrong choice in asking you to stay," he said aloud, his face ashen as though gripped with a sudden weariness. The medic raised her head sharply, staring in astonishment at her sensei. He hadn't been the only one who had begged her to stay, she remembered. There had been plenty of others – Naruto not the least of them – who had implored beseechingly with her upon announcing that she would leave with the blonde-haired ninja that stormy, turbulent night.

It would be suicide, they had said. She would not last a week in the harsh conditions with several teams of ANBU on her tail. Naruto had turned to her worriedly; his cerulean blue eyes reaching a level of understanding that none of the others had quite achieved and had made her promise to stay. To promise be there when he came back. She had acquiesced with a single tremulous nod of the head. And now Kakashi was questioning the wisdom of those words, she concluded with a thrill of foreboding. Her situation had not changed one iota since that fateful day and Sakura highly doubted he thought her capable of eluding Danzou's retribution for very long.

"What are you trying to say?" She asked cautiously, her stomach curling and uncurling unpleasantly at the ominous statement.

"It would have been easier to leave," he continued, sighing deeply. "Danzou's hold over the village was not nearly so strong, but there was hope to resist then..." She merely watched, fighting signs of open anxiety as Kakashi followed his ominous train of thought. "Everything he has done so far, every decision he has made as Hokage has been to fully ensure his position. Konoha is no longer safe. Soon, he will stage a coop, eliminating all those who oppose him in a single night".

"Why are you telling me this?" she interrupted angrily, fear for those who faced Danzou's indomitable wrath seeping unintentionally into her tones. "I pose no threat to the Hokage! There is no reason why-"

"Danzou doesn't care whether you're a threat personally," he contradicted her sharply. It was crucial for her to understand. "It doesn't matter to him whether you are a shinobi or a civilian. Anyone showing signs of enmity towards his new regime is dealt with harshly".

"But I haven't-," she protested weakly.

"Not openly no," Kakashi explained sadly. "But Danzou knows where your true allegiance lies".

Sakura watched the silver-haired shinobi with something akin to dismay on her face. Wave after towering wave of shock descended upon her stunned body and through the mind-numbing roar she struggled to comprehend his words. Stupidly, she had always assumed that by keeping her head down and maintaining an air of quiet deference towards the Hokage she would be safe, despite her close relationship to the Godaime and Konoha's most wanted criminal.

She frowned, disinclined to commit to the new idea. It was unthinkable for him to expect her to drop everything in a half-beat, she raged inwardly. Completely out of the question! But, said a small traitorous voice at the back of her mind, he was making sense. Perhaps leaving was the only option left open to her now.

If she wanted to live, that was.

"How do you know all this?" she asked shakily. Unwilling to face up to the awful reality of the situation, she preferred to focus on small, manageable pieces. It was a possibility that he was overreacting, she thought, disregarding the fact that she'd never known him to before.

Wordlessly, he handed her a folded sheet of paper which she opened curiously. Immediately her own name jumped out at her from a long list of names in Sai's bold, graceful script underneath the heading: Targets. Her heartbeat quickened. Horrified, she folded the paper over but not before her eyes had unwittingly read a few familiar names: Shikamaru, Lee, Ino... She did not want to know who else had been named traitors.

"I didn't want to believe it either until this afternoon," Kakashi said, worry and concern thinly veiled underneath his attempted nonchalance. "I'm not sure if you're aware, but Shizune was called to the office regarding her continued negligence concerning her duties. I'm told it was less of a disciplinary hearing and more of a trial. She was accused of leaking valuable information to rival villages and sabotaging the Hokage's new regime. Though I suspect her strong friendship with Tsunade was most likely the real reason".

Sakura sat frozen, slowly digesting the catastrophic information. "But she's... she's alright isn't she?"

Kakashi did not answer.

"Oh God!"

"It's no longer safe, Sakura," he continued grimly, grey eyes devoid of their familiar twinkling light. "It won't be long before the Hokage sends out teams to eliminate everyone on this list. It will be done quietly and without a fuss. The rest of Konoha will be none the wiser, believing that you have turned traitor to the village and were part of a plot to invade the Hidden Leaf and assassinate the Hokage".

She felt sickened.

"I'm going to have to leave, aren't I? I don't have a choice".

"That would be best, yes".

Sakura tightened her grasp on the damning paper, drawing her fingers into a tight fist so that the perfectly smooth paper crumpled under her vice-like grip. She couldn't believe it! Her whole world was crashing down around her for the second time in four months and she didn't know what to do. One single reoccurring thought remained foremost in her mind: she did not want to leave. It was a unanimous opinion that to leave was suicide but to stay meant certain death. The idea of becoming a martyr did not appeal to her and she knew that if there was a slim chance of survival, however small she had to take it. But it did not make leaving any easier.

"Why aren't you on the list, sensei?" she asked, consulting the paper a second time. It was impossible to keep the accusatory tone out of her voice.

A black shadow passed over his features and his face hardened. "My loyalty has been assured," he replied, chewing out the foul-tasting words bitterly.

A barely imperceptible shiver ran the length of her spine at the sound of his self-loathing. She did not want to know what he meant but those words had elicited a slither of unease in her. Could she even trust him anymore, she wondered despondently, realising that she had no choice _but_ to trust him. There was too much truth in his words for her to deny and she knew that if she were to survive, she would need help.

Perhaps understanding that it was going to take some time for Sakura to digest this news, Kakashi handed her an address written on a slip of paper in slanted handwriting.

"If you choose to leave, be ready tomorrow night at this address," he informed her at the door. The medic made no effort to see him out. "Sai will teach everyone the necessary seals to break the barrier before you go." She stared at it wordlessly, unable to comprehend the enormity of the situation. Her mind was numb with disbelief.

"Think about it".

She nodded, her eyes hard.

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Itachi appears very soon so don't worry!

Reviews are much appreciated :)


	2. Judas

**A/N:** Apologies for the late update but I've made it extra long to make up for it. Finally, Itachi makes his first appearance!

**Disclaimer:** I do not in any way shape or form own Naruto.

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**Chapter 2: Judas

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_Crack!_

A streak of lightning crossed the deep cloud-strewn sky, illuminating the small room with its silvery light and highlighting a number of misshapen objects, the sharp edges of the dresser and draws, bathing the occupied bed in its sickly glow. Sakura screwed up her eyes against the unwanted glare and curled instinctively against the thin blanket. In the corner her duvet lay in an unceremonious heap, the product of her last ditch attempt to cool her fevered skin. The air was stiflingly hot and humid despite her earlier attempts to coax a non-existent breeze through her opened windows.

It had taken all of a few minutes after Kakashi had slammed the door for Sakura to regain the use of her limbs. Only the sensation of cold coffee slopping over her tilted mug effectively served to wake her from her stupor. With awareness came action. Clothes, kunai, shuriken and medicine were thrown into her little rucksack unwanted abandon, the very seams of which threatened to rip in her haste to cram in every last item. Halfway through she paused – teeth dragging across the skin of her lips in anxiety – and began to unpack. A couple of minutes later she changed her mind again. And then again. An hour later her nails were reduced to little more than tattered shreds and she was still in two minds about leaving. Exhausted, she caved to the demands of her body and collapsed on the bed.

A howling wind gripped the corners of the building as Sakura tossed and turned. She stuffed her head into her pillow, trying to block out the incessant sound of pebble-sized raindrops as they peppered her roof. The summer storm raged on, sending her wooden shutters reeling against the window, adding to the cacophony of noise.

_Bang! Bang! Ba-_

A strong, pale hand reached out to grasp the green shutter, ceasing its cyclical motion. Sakura knit her cerise eyebrows together unconsciously and then turned over, burrowing deeper into the thin blanket. Her mind was more concerned with simple pleasures such as the soft pillow against her head, dismissing the irregular pattern of noise easily in her dream-like state.

A dark silhouette perched silently upon the window sill. Tepid rainwater dripped from the sodden black garments as his eyes peeped out from underneath a dark hood, never leaving the sleeping form on the bed. After a moment's pause, he slid noiselessly into the room. The apparent grace with which the man moved – tempered only by instinctive caution – was an ability that could only be achieved through years of dedication and the careful honing of his skills: these were the trademarks of a shinobi, and a skilled one at that. With practiced movements, he drew a kunai from his pouch intending to make quick work of the defenceless kunoichi. Perhaps if he had been a man that favoured emotion over unswerving obedience he may have paused, plagued with sudden doubt, his hand perhaps shaking with unsuppressed nerves. But as a member of Root he was immune to such human weakness. Orders were orders. No exceptions.

Quick as a flash, the man leapt towards the sleeping figure, kunai flickering dangerously in the half-light. Jade eyes snapped open. Mere inches from the pale, exposed skin of her neck the man cried out in pain. The blow aimed for her jugular glanced aside and nicked the smooth flesh of her shoulder instead. Stifling a cry, the newly awaked medic stared at the intruder in alarm.

A few mind-numbing seconds ticked by in which Sakura struggled to understand the situation. Her eyes travelled from her clenched fist – which had carved a path through the man's insides like butter – to the stranger on her bed and then, to her darkened room. Comprehension dawned and she reeled backwards, adrenaline thudding uncomfortably in her ears as her eyes alighted upon the familiar leaf insignia tied to the man's arm. It seemed almost incredible how such a familiar symbol – one that had previously elicited pride and warmth inside her – now brought bile to her throat. Unable to meet the dead man's glassy-eyed stare, she kicked the sorry corpse to the floor disgustedly. A huge, gaping rent in his chest indicated where his heart had been crushed in the attack.

With shaking hands, whether from anger or fear Sakura did not know, she peeled off her pyjamas, revolted by the hot, sticky blood coating the threadbare material. It had been pure instinct that saved her, she realised as rifled through her untidy draws for a black, nondescript outfit usually reserved for covert missions of which were few and far between. She wondered vaguely whether to pack her entire medical kit before deciding it was too bulky. She also wondered whether the attack was an isolated incident or that it was as Kakashi had prophesised; Danzou was cleansing Konoha of all those he deemed a threat.

With an impending sense of dread she crept over to the open window, feet swishing softly across the bare floorboards and peeped down. The street was deserted. A small sigh of relief escaped her lips but it was short-lived. Not two seconds later a familiar clash of metal striking metal reached the medic's ears, alerting her to a number of small battles that had broken out all over Konoha. As she watched, the walls of a building several streets away crumbled like bread, consumed by the night before she could even draw breath. She gripped the wooden sill; face stricken, eyes struggling to pierce the inky blackness that gripped the village. It was happening! It was really happening!

Almost automatically, Sakura recalled the conversation that had occurred only a few hours ago. Kakashi had informed her that the meeting would take place tomorrow evening which could mean only one thing. They had been betrayed. In order for Danzou to take countermeasures against the plan he had to have been forewarned. The medic took a sharp intake of breath as she contemplated the possibilities; either they had not been nearly as careful as they thought and their actions had been noticed by ANBU or someone in their midst had betrayed them.

No. She immediately rejected the latter, refusing to consider that someone she believed to be her friend had sold them out to the Hokage. If she couldn't trust them, she reasoned, she couldn't trust anyone. The rumble of an exploding tag as it detonated a couple of streets away brought the shell-shocked medic to her senses. She had already lingered too long.

There was barely any time for regret as Sakura sent one last parting glance at the flat that she had considered to be her home for the past two years and slipped out into the night. A sheet of cold, merciless rain bombarded the kunoichi upon relinquishing the shelter of the doorway but she suppressed a grimace. The small discomfort rain caused was trivial compared to the pain of watching shinobi from her beloved village fight amongst themselves at the whim of a selfish, egotistical maniac.

Concealing her chakra as best she could, the pink-haired medic mounted the roof of the nearest building. It was risky taking the preferred highway for most ninja but it was also the fastest way to traverse the village and Sakura was determined to reach her best friend before the others. She put on an extra spurt of speed as she ran pell-mell across the slate roofs, sandals clacking madly in her haste. From a distance, the third district appeared calm and quiet but Sakura knew that in a few minutes, the madness that infected the rest of the village would spill into this seemingly oblivious area, tearing streets and lives apart as effectively as a crazed animal on a rampage. No one would escape this night unscathed.

Muttering fervent thanks to whatever god allowed her passage to Ino's unharmed and unchallenged, Sakura ran down the last stretch of the street and skidded to a halt before her friend's door, splattering mud all over the drowned flowerpots that littered the porch. She glanced up at the dark windows, not even bothering to spare the poor, abused plants even the most cursory of glances and rapped on the door, hard.

"Ino!"

No answer.

"Ino!" She hammered on the door frantically, ignoring the way the pine groaned and bent inwards with each fist fall. "Ino, wake up!"

* * *

From atop the Hokage's tower, a single man witnessed the product of his own making in silence. A clash of metal, the rumble of brick and mortar collapsing, a flurry of small explosions, an agonised shriek of pain: every sound grated sharply against his carefully attuned ears. Yet he bore these discomforts without complaint. He felt it would be disrespectful to ignore the price for his newly acquired position. It was all for the sake of the clan, he reminded himself softly. For the clan.

The dark, threatening clouds that had begun to amass over Konoha several hours ago completed the ominous scene. Dense, swirling moisture blanketed the heavens, creating an elaborate cage that subconsciously worked to shatter any illusions the fugitives harboured for escape. The man watched the scene impassively, or so it would seem were it not for the way his fingers clenched involuntarily in silent protest. And then there were his eyes; great silvery disks that mirrored the raging tempest outside as he fought to avert his gaze. He found he couldn't. He was transfixed by his own horror.

He was unsure why Danzou had offered him a front row seat to the massacre for which he was responsible. Perhaps so he could understand the cost of restabilising Konoha and for the Hokage to gauge his reaction and the depth of his commitment. Throughout the ordeal, the silver-eyed man had felt the shrewd gaze of the Hokage boring into his back: an unpleasant sensation yet he refused to flinch. It was only a simple matter of passing a test. No different from his days in the academy, he reasoned.

"Neji". The sharp, clipped tones startled him out of his musings and he glanced away from the open window, almost surprised to find the dark, spacious chambers behind him. They were easily twice the size of Tsu-, the former Hokage's office, he amended silently. Solemn black drapes which proudly bore the symbol of fire adorned the otherwise barren walls while white flames danced from two monstrous, carved bowls, standing like sentries at the far end of the room.

"Yes, Hokage-sama?" he replied, automatically slipping into the servile manner which was expected in the Hokage's presence. He resolutely remained in eye-contact with the heavily scarred man, determined not to let even a flicker of unease betray his impassive stance.

"I think you've watched that window long enough," Danzou replied, his face cracking into the barest of smiles which alarmingly enhanced his haggard appearance. "Such vermin are undeserving of our attention".

He motioned for the Byakugan-user to approach the huge, clawed mahogany desk which the Hokage favoured for its straight, hard, disciplinary lines and dominating presence. The very notion of disobeying was furthest from Neji's mind as he recognised the suggestion for what it was; a command. Rather, he devoted the whole of his remaining wit to divine the true purpose of being summoned here, if not to witness the cleansing of the Hidden Leaf.

"This purge has dealt a fatal blow to the rebel faction," Danzou continued satisfactorily as he reached for a silver platter of plums perched on the edge of the burnished desk. "Those fools who stick stubbornly to the old order won't dare oppose my new legislation after tonight. This village has been soft far too long".

"What of those outside the village?" Neji ventured to ask. "The ones who abandoned the village the night you gained leadership?"

It was common knowledge that Naruto lead the band of deserters, however Neji refrained from naming the Hokage's greatest adversary for fear of upsetting him.

"Once they learn what has occurred, they will have no choice but to act," Danzou replied smoothly. A ghost of a smirk settled over his lined features as leaned back in his gilt chair and considered the prospect. "They will be outraged over the death of their family members and friends. They will become rash and foolish. Their leader will most likely order an attack against Konoha but we will be ready for them".

"But sir, how can you be certain-?"

"I am not certain!" Danzou snapped back and Neji winced, realising too late that he had made a fatal mistake in overstepping his bounds as a subordinate. By questioning the Hokage's judgement he had undermined his authority. Fortunately, the night's events appeared to have put Danzou in a favourable mood for upon hearing the Hyuuga's stammered apologies he simply waved them aside, apparently content to gloat over the inevitable success of the purge.

Neji watched the man with inscrutable eyes, following the path of his fingers as they closed around his fourth plum. There was something rather perverse about the way Danzou dined on the bruised fruit with the pleasure of an indulged man he reflected silently, thoughts full of disdain. Automatically he averted his gaze in an attempt to hide his disgust for the Hokage's blatant show of indifference. He couldn't help but liken the dark juices that smeared the platter to the blood of those he had once counted friends and allies staining the streets below. Idly, he wondered if it would permanently affect his view of the place he'd always considered home. Perhaps he would never sleep soundly again knowing what had befallen Konoha had been entirely of his own doing. No. He was not entirely to blame. It was those traitors who dared to oppose Danzou's regime that had brought this upon the entire village.

It was their fault, so why did he feel a hint of regret at the very thought of their deaths?

* * *

"What's going on?" Ino murmured sleepily as she allowed her uncooperative left arm to be guided through the sleeve of her top by her adamant, pink-haired best friend. She stifled a yawn and glanced a second time at the luminous digital numbers on her bedside clock. It stated clearly that the time was 3.14AM. Certainly not a decent time for anything other than sleeping, she thought irately as her weary mind began to formulate reasons for why Sakura had turned up on her doorstep at such an ungodly hour, rain-drenched and sans makeup.

"No time to explain," Sakura replied distractedly. Having completed forcing Ino into her usual attire, she chucked her a newly-packed mission pouch. Ino caught it bewilderedly. "We leave now".

"What's going on?" The blonde repeated a little more urgently this time, sensing her friend's agitation by the way she unconsciously wrung her hands and jumped at small noises. Alarmed, she reached out to grab the medic's arm and perhaps shake some sense into her but Sakura backed away, her jade eyes round with anxiety.

"Sakura, wait!" Ino dodged the clutter that besieged the stairs as she attempted to follow her friend, cursing as she stubbed her toe on the corner of a large book. She caught up with Sakura at the front door, rubbing her toe bemusedly. She knew her bad habits would come to bite her in the ass someday, she thought wryly. Upon seeing that the lock had her friend stymied, she leaned over to assist her in opening the heavy front door with a sigh.

"Saku-," she cut herself off mid-sentence as the pink-haired kunoichi grabbed her open hand and darted out into the rain, leaving the blonde no choice but to follow. She winced immediately upon coming into contact with the icy barrage that soaked her clothes through to the bone in a matter of seconds.

It was almost impossible to see through the virtual monsoon so for a while Ino concentrated on the rhythmic pounding of their feet, placing all her faith in the chilled hand that urged her onwards at a relentless pace. Innumerable questions buzzed around the medic's head but she dared not voice any of them when she barely had enough air to breathe let alone talk. She considered pulling Sakura to a stop and pelting her for answers but the worried expression she'd seen upon her friend's face stopped her. Something serious was going on Ino surmised, for once not delving into her own brand of sarcastic humour to explain away the kunoichi's behaviour.

As they ran, Ino began to take stock of their surroundings and realised with slight trepidation that they were taking a roundabout route through the village as though Sakura wanted to circumnavigate something. She almost commented on it but at that very moment, a resounding crash – which had both the medics reeling around in shock – echoed a mere street away, followed by issued orders and the unmistakable sound of shuriken whistling towards a target. Ino was no longer dragging on Sakura's hand.

"What's happening?" She pressed frantically. All thoughts of remaining silent vanished in the aftermath of the attack. She wanted to know why Sakura seemed so afraid, of why they were running away from a battle instead of into it and why they were leaving the parameters of the village. "I need to know, Sakura".

The blonde waited for Sakura's answer expectantly, oblivious to the fact that they had halted in the middle of an isolated ramshackle street and the frightened rabbit look in her friend's eyes. Sakura only shook her head and pressed her lips together anxiously.

"I know," she replied at least having the conscience to look contrite. Her eyes darted towards the nearby rooftops as she spoke. "It's just... I don't want to be the one to explain. It's too..." But apparently whatever it was Sakura couldn't say and she amended herself by saying, "Look, I'll explain everything later if I have to but right now we should get out of here!"

Ino wasn't sure whether to believe her.

"No," she said obstinately, deciding to cut the crap. It was such an inadequate response to all that had happened so far that she couldn't help but protest. "Not until you-"

A deafening roar drowned out the rest of her words as the wall to their right exploded. Brick and mortar rained down upon the two stunned shinobi who had barely enough wit to scramble out of the way. Their ears rang with an undetectable buzzing from the force of the shock and brick dust threatened to smoother their airways.

"Ino, get down!" Sakura warned, pulling her unresponsive friend behind a partially demolished brick wall. The blonde suppressed the urge to sneeze as she inadvertently inhaled a cloud of fine particles that had not yet settled. Her friend's green, cat-like eyes narrowed to slits as she squinted through the dust. Two dark silhouettes appeared on the edge of their vision. Sakura's fingers curled instinctively as she eyed the unknown men while Ino silently unhooked a kunai from her belt. Both waited with baited breath.

"Who are they?" Ino mouthed when Sakura chanced to look in her direction.

A small frown creased her brow as she had trouble deciphering exactly what the pink-haired medic whispered back.

"What?"

Straining her ears she leant forward, knees sinking into the uncovered, scarred earth. Intent upon scouring the area now that the dust had settled, Sakura took a moment to answer. Her jade eyes took in the empty street and to her relief it was completely devoid of the shadowy figures that had descended upon it only a moment ago. She wished she could have said for certain that it had been a trick of the light that made their faces so deceptively white – as though they were wearing the white masks of ANBU – but she couldn't. Unable to believe their luck, it was a while before she remembered the question.

"ANBU," she said distractedly as she rose fluidly from her crouched position behind the wall and prepared to move on. Automatically she flexed her well-worn leather gloves and began to stride away briskly, eager to move on.

Ino stared after her, eyes widening in bewilderment. She hadn't the faintest clue what was going on. At first she'd assumed that an unknown enemy had attacked the village and that they had been summoned to attend to wounded shinobi in a safe building away from the fighting. However, her friend's agitated manner and uncharacteristic behaviour had tipped her off to the fact that something stranger was at work here. Frowning she studied the information, allowing the hidden pieces of the jigsaw to fall into place. She let out an audible gasp as her brain reached the only logical conclusion. The only reason they would flee from members of ANBU: the Hokage had branded them all as traitors.

Whether he knew the identities of those who played an active role in the resistance she did not know. Perhaps even showing a slight disinclination to the new regime was enough and Ino had certainly not troubled to keep her voice down on certain matters concerning the village. But in any case she'd never participated in any harebrained schemes to topple the Hokage. She hadn't been serious when she'd joked to Sakura about leaving the village, she thought dismayed. She made a mental note to be more careful what she wished for in future.

And when she thought things couldn't possibly get any worse, they did. The two dark shapes from before – or at least she assumed they were the same –dropped smoothly onto the waterlogged street before them, barring their escape route.

"Oh you just love contradicting me, don't you?" Ino scowled up at the relentless downpour that thundered over their heads.

She took up her familiar stance with a sigh, noticing that Sakura was already halfway towards the first one with a chakra-laden fist. Smirking at such crude methods, Ino targeted the left figure who appeared content to watch his comrade face off against the pink-haired kunoichi. It struck her then how very small they were.

Taking advantage of the second shinobi's distraction, Ino made a split-second decision to risk entering the shinobi's mind. She was used to discerning the subtle complexities and personalities of people's minds and so it came with some shock that this particular mind was so uncomplicated and naive. Another troubling factor was the ease at which she gained control of the mind. Either she was improving or this particular opponent was extremely inept at defending themselves. A slither of unease ran the length of her spine. He was supposed to be _ANBU_!

She blinked and stumbled as the contact was broken. Sakura was standing over what had been her opponent a second before, a look of revulsion on her face.

"They were children," she whispered, fighting back tears. "Just children".

Ino shuddered and averted her eyes. She did not want to see their faces. Sakura appeared unable to move, still staring at the two huddled figures in the dirt. Her eyes were red.

"Let's just get out of here," Ino suggested shakily. She tugged on Sakura's limp arm anxiously. "We can regret what happened later".

Sakura nodded slowly and turned away from the disturbing scene. She wiped a couple of tears on her sleeve when she thought her friend wasn't looking. An intense feeling of white-hot fury swept over the blonde as she considered the lengths Danzou would go to in order to secure his precious village. How dare he, she raged inwardly. How dare he enrol children into his army for the sole purpose of swelling the ranks! He was sending them to their deaths and he knew it! Her loathing of the man increased, if it were possible.

So intent on what they had just experienced, neither Sakura nor Ino noticed a third figure sneak up behind them. The soft squelching of mud echoed off the blank-faced houses and Ino turned around instinctively, just as the unseen assailant was about to sink his kunai into her exposed flesh. Horrified she raised her arms protectively, expecting at any moment to feel the metal's keen bite.

But it never came.

Warily, she opened her eyes. The black-garbed figure was poised in front of her, holding the kunai up above his head like a dagger. For one wild moment she thought he was frozen with fear. Then she spied thin unnatural black shadows that locked his figure into place and understood.

"Shikamaru?" She croaked disbelievingly.

* * *

"Of course, as soon as I realised what was going on I rushed straight to Chouji's house," Shikamaru related as they ran down the darkened streets. "He was already in conflict with several members of ANBU but they hadn't counted on my arrival".

"Did you see anyone else on the way here?" Sakura asked desperately, though she rather dreaded the answer.

"No," Shikamaru sighed heavily. "We'll only know the true number of how many survived when we reach the barrier. Whoever staged the attack left several gaping holes in the plan. If a member of the Nara clan had orchestrated it, I'm sure it'd have gone much more smoothly but I suppose Danzou has enough sense not to trust us. Pity really," he smirked though it was clear from his tone that he was not really amused.

"If only we had the same good sense," Sakura remarked sardonically. "Then perhaps we'd have spotted a traitor in our midst".

Shikamaru considered her for a second, taking in her grim manner before answering. "That would have been impossible. Unless we were to monitor every member of the resistance, we would have no way of discovering a traitor. Even then, the ones doing the monitoring would have to be under the same scrutiny," he let out an audible sigh. "The time it would have taken was astronomical. It just wasn't practical".

"So basically, you're saying there's no way to find out who it was?" she asked, frustration seeping into her tones.

"I never said that," the dark-haired jounin corrected her. "I have some theories. However the only way we'll know for sure is by finding out if anyone stayed in the village after the attack. Of course, it's possible that the traitor could leave with us to avoid arousing suspicion".

"That means it could be anyone!" Sakura replied irately. "Who do your theories include?"

Shikamaru chose not to answer. A quick glance his way told her that he had halted a few paces back, staring at something in the distance. She realised he hadn't even heard her. Following his line of sight, she too saw what it was he was looking at.

They had reached the edge of the barrier.

One brief glance told her all she needed to know: the barrier was intact. Gazing through it, Sakura could see the faint outline of tree tops strangely distorted through the transparent lens. For one absurd moment she rather envied the green, deciduous trees solely for the fact that they were outside the barrier and she was not. She had only seen it once before and like last time; it elicited similar feelings of confinement and impotence.

"How will we get through?" Ino asked anxiously.

"Hopefully Sai will be there to open it," Shikamaru answered. He failed to mention what would happen if he wasn't.

Sakura discreetly crossed her fingers as they approached the barrier, on the lookout for the pale face she knew so well.

There was a small crowd around its edge and as they neared, Sakura emitted a shriek as she recognised them. Familiar faces such as Iruka, Kiba, TenTen and many others besides jumped out at her under the pale moonlight. There were more than she'd hoped for: at least thirty of them stood crowded around the thin profile of Sai who had the palm of his hand placed flat against the barrier, a look of deep concentration written over his stark-white features.

In her haste, she never noticed the bloodstained fabric of many of her comrades' clothes nor the signs that a great battle had taken place just minutes ago. She spared no thought for the huddled limp figures that lay piled unceremoniously in the dirt. All she could focus on was the thought that they were almost free, that Sai would release the barrier and then they would march as one to the hideout of Konoha's missing nin. Somewhere out there beyond the borders of Konoha.

She was half-way across to the motionless figure when the alarm rang.

"Attack! We're under attack!"

Sakura pivoted in the direction of the shout, pink locks whipping across her face as they were caught in an oncoming wind. Irritatedly, she pushed the wet strands out of her eyes just in time to spot a volley of shuriken which were launched in their general vicinity. She sidestepped them easily; squinting against the heavy sheet of rain for more projectiles and instead sighting the first wave of ninja descend upon their poorly-constructed defence. Within seconds of engaging the faceless leaf shinobi, she lost track of everything but her enemies. Dodge, kick, block, kick, punch: Sakura fell into an instinctive routine which comprised of action and reaction. There was no time to think. No time to reflect that her opponents were perhaps people she had met on the street, neighbours or colleagues. She knew as well as they did that it was kill or be killed and Sakura was not ready to die just yet.

When Sai finally broke the barrier, it wasn't soon enough in her opinion. An extra battalion of shinobi had just arrived and they were hard pressed to protect the ex-Root member from enemy missiles. She sent a last well-aimed kick into the chest of her opponent and scrambled up the muddied mound to the small gap in the barrier. Her legs pumped furiously as she sprinted towards the small gap in the barrier – barely wide enough for two grown men to fit through – and joined the small queue jostling and pushing frantically to get through.

Before she knew it she had passed through the small arch and had breathed her first lungful of fresh, unpolluted air. But there was no time to stop and revel in the newfound freedom. Already swarms of black-garbed men were streaming out of the narrow gap in the village's defences intent on pursuing the so-called-traitors across immeasurable distances. They were not out of the woods yet.

Somehow she found Ino amongst the muddle of fleeing shinobi and together they set off towards the border of the Fire country, where they hoped they would be safe.

* * *

_Three days later._

Itachi Uchiha twirled a kunai absentmindedly around his index finger, more out of habit than anything and glanced around the bar without really seeing anything. The stools to his left and right were suspiciously vacant but perhaps that was not surprising given his current mood and indeed most of the customers appeared to be giving him a wide berth. His dark, brooding gaze and mercenary-like apparel gave most villagers the distinct impression that he wished to remain undisturbed.

Much of this was lost on him however as he mulled over the events of the past few months in which – after believing he had done everything he could to ensure that his brother became the shinobi he could not – he found that it had all been for nothing. Instead of using his newfound power to eliminate Madara Uchiha, Sasuke had ignored his sacrifice and joined forces with the madman. Itachi pinched the bridge of his nose and exhaled deeply. Perhaps if he had been there he could have done something to separate Sasuke from his greatest adversary but funnily enough being dead had prevented him from doing so.

What's done is done, he reminded himself for the thousandth time. The past could not be changed; therefore it would not do to dwell on such things at every opportunity as he inevitably did whenever he stopped for the night, having little better to do than twiddle his thumbs all evening.

"Sir, I suggest you order something or leave".

Itachi glanced up to see a surly, unshaven man eye him mistrustfully from over the counter. He sighed, resigning himself to the fact that he was not able to sit out the rest of the evening in relative peace and that he'd better order something quick or risk the indomitable wrath of the bartender, God forbid. His lips quirked up into a rare smile as he studied the collection of liquor behind the counter with a novice's eye.

Almost immediately, his eye alighted upon a familiar bottle behind the counter and, because he was disinclined to the idea of staring at the vast collection bemusedly for the next five minutes, he ordered the bottle.

It was Sake – one of Kisame's favourites, he remembered with a touch of nostalgia. It was an age-old tradition for the shark-man to spend a night down at the nearest bar the night after a mission and squander his pay on drink. The shark had a formidable reputation for "celebrating" as he so articulately dubbed it. In fact, Itachi was positive that Kisame had invented the term "to drink like a fish". He was infamous throughout many bars in the Rain country and many others besides. Itachi sometimes accompanied him, not because he felt an overwhelming desire to pump his stomach full of liquor but because he preferred to prevent the blue-skinned man from damaging the property – as was his wont to do sometimes – rather than receive a hefty bill the next day.

Itachi was rather averse to dulling his senses through drinking to excess and in any case he'd never really understood the attraction to such pleasures. Vaguely, he recalled his father forbidding him from joining other shinobi of his station on nights of drunken revelry. He wasn't sure whether his father had disapproved of the practice in general or the fact that he was at least five years younger than most of them had something to do with it. In any case, Itachi had always opted for a non-alcoholic beverage over regurgitating his drink down a dark alleyway despite Kisame's frequent attempts to dissuade him. Idly, he wondered where the old shark was now.

The ruddy-faced bartender returned with bottle and a small cup before bustling away again, pausing only to receive a few silver pieces in return. Evidently Itachi wasn't worth the bother of pouring the first glass but despite the man's apparent rudeness, he found he didn't mind. He poured himself a cup of the sweet-smelling stuff and eyed it warily before downing the bubbling liquid in one. It was not so bad, he decided once he got used to the sensation of it burning his throat and his coughs had subsided. However he was not so keen on it as to make it a regular occurrence. He still had some sense of self-preservation left, even if there was nothing left to live for.

He sighed into his drink. It turned out the Uchiha needed more than just one small cup to forget his troubles. His dear, beloved brother was dead; murdered at the hands of Danzou, Konoha's current Hokage and over than vaguely tempting scenarios for extracting his revenge, Itachi had no plans for the immediate future.

A sudden gust of wind caused the ex-Akatsuki to shiver as a latecomer stepped into the wayside inn and made a beeline for the bar. The harsh scraping of a stool being dragged across the flagstone floor alerted him to the newcomer's presence. The pleasant scent of crushed pine-needles infused the air and Itachi peeked curiously at his neighbour, wondering why they were seemingly unperturbed by his hostile demeanour when not a single villager dared sit within five foot of him.

Haunting green eyes, vivid pink locks; Itachi recognised the woman who sat not a foot from him instantly. Sakura Haruno: best friend of the Kyuubi and Sasuke's former teammate. And as fate would have it, she had walked into the very inn that he had, completely oblivious to the identity of the man next to her.

Itachi began to wonder if he was simply unlucky or someone was playing a very cruel joke.

* * *

**A/N:** Please review! It means the world to me!


	3. The Wrong Kind of Attention

**A/N: **Sorry for the long wait guys but I wanted this chapter to be perfect! A huge thanks to those of you who reviewed! I really appreciate hearing your thoughts and they are an excellent motivator!**  
**

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Naruto in any way, shape or form.

* * *

**Chapter 3: The Wrong Kind of Attention**

* * *

In one sweeping motion, Sakura cast off the hood of her sopping wet cloak as the heavy, wooden door slammed shut behind her. The incessant patter of raindrops subsided almost instantly. A small smile ghosted across her lips as she allowed herself the satisfaction of knowing that the rain at least was one thing less to endure. The inn looked pleasant enough. A motley collection of rickety tables and squashy armchairs dominated the space by the fire while several hard, wooden tables flanked the right-hand wall. Several locals, she noticed had raised their heads from their tankards at the intrusion just long enough to note her presence before returning to more important matters.

Sakura doubted that here, near the edge of the Fire country she was likely to find trouble.

However in spite of her concrete beliefs she was unwilling to follow her own advice. Her sharp, green eyes continued to dart about the room, searching for anyone that might have taken an undue interest in her arrival. Upon discovering none the medic traipsed over to the bar cautiously, relaxing her tightly furled fists as she did so. She was being overly suspicious, she chided herself silently. She could attract the wrong kind of attention if she wasn't careful.

The three-legged stool squeaked in protest as she sat down at the bar next to a dark-haired man wearing a heavy cloak, much the same as her own. She spared him a passing glance, noting the way his black hair was gathered into a loose ponytail and the mostly-full bottle of sake next to him before turning her attention to the seedy bartender.

"A glass of vodka and lemonade please," she said once he'd thrown down the rag he used to clean the glasses and sidled over to her position at the bar. He gazed at her a second longer than necessary before going to make her drink. She gripped the edge of her stool hard and stared at the floor, not liking the way he'd appeared to drink in her features in the brief moment she taken to order. Her fringe lay plastered to her forehead while the rest of it passed as a good imitation of a bird's nest and she was certain her face was dirty after two nights of sleeping in caves. She shook her head disbelievingly. It was hard to believe that there were still perverts in the world after everything that had happened.

Half a minute later the bartender set down the glass on the burnished counter, jerking her out of her reverie.

"Thanks," she said a fraction of a second before realising that he'd taken the opportunity to undress her with his eyes yet again. Practically seething with anger, she sent him a scathing look which resulted in him scuttling away towards another potential customer at the other end of the bar. With a sense of vindictive pleasure, she lowered her eyes to the bubbling liquid and took an innocent sip before relapsing into her previous state of despair.

Dwelling on the fate of her friends – Ino especially – was fast becoming an unwelcome habit of hers. Something that despite the necessity of planning her next move usually resulted in her whiling away the rest of the night in a state of absolute misery. And despite what anyone else might think, it was something she was determined to avoid.

Since she had all but barred herself from wallowing in self-pity, she took the chance to observe the crowded, smoky room and its intoxicated inhabitants. Swilling her small glass absentmindedly, she amused herself for a few moments in guessing which customers were regulars and who was likely to win the drinking contest at one of the long, wooden tables. Eventually her eyes fell on her silent companion whom she was certain had not moved a muscle since she'd sat down at the bar. Suspiciously, his drink appeared to be untouched and Sakura found the expression he wore on his face not reassuring. His dark eyes were fixed resolutely ahead, curiously wide and unseeing. Even though she was positive she'd never laid eyes on him before there was something almost familiar about him. Unaware of coming to a conscious decision, she set down her drink and watched him interestedly, noting the way his fingers curled in defiance at something that existed only in his head. A brief grimace of pain flashed across his troubled features so fast that if she'd blinked she would have missed it.

"Are you alright?" It was not necessary for her to ask but she felt obliged to considering that they had sat next to each other for the last half hour.

"I'm fine thank you," the stranger replied curtly, once he'd recovered from his initial surprise. His abrupt and rude manner suggested that he was averse to her in some way but after scrutinising him for the last couple of minutes Sakura believed that whatever seemed to be troubling him was the real reason. His pained expression touched closely upon the medic's own emotions and despite her better judgement, she felt a sudden kinship to the man garbed in black.

"Great," she said unconvincingly, refusing to be dissuaded by his distinct unsociable air. This time he didn't even bother reply. His stare became more pronounced and perhaps more uncomfortable than before, if possible. Apparently he was expecting her to continue but it couldn't have been clearer that this was a conversation he was keen to avoid. "You've hardly touched your drink, you know," she said, wondering what she'd done to deserve such hostility. "I heard that one's supposed to be quite good but I haven't tried-"

"Do you have a compulsive need to interrogate complete strangers or just a total disregard for their feelings?" he interjected smoothly, lips quirked up into an infuriating smirk. As was his intention, the words succeeded in riling her though she wasn't incensed enough to overlook the disappearance of his indifferent facade.

"Do you make a habit of insulting everyone you meet?"

"Not usually no". He seemed amused.

Sakura didn't deign to reply. Instead she returned to her drink which she deemed safer than exchanging words with the sharp-tongued stranger. After several minutes of silence she relaxed, confident that the conversation had been crippled indefinitely. She didn't dare look his way again. If she had though, she would have seen the contemplative expression dominating his features as he continued to observe her silently.

It was half-way through ordering her fourth drink that Sakura realised with some chagrin that her purse was alarmingly empty. Of course she hadn't had time to draw more from the bank before she left, she scolded herself mentally. It was amazing that such a perilously low amount had escaped her notice before now. For one second she was struck by an insane desire to return to Konoha and collect the rest of her savings which she realised would have undoubtedly been added to the Hokage's funds by now. A completely justified stab of white-hot anger washed over her. She was unaware that her fists were clenched so tightly they would have broken the empty glass, had she not set it down a minute earlier. It was then that she realised the bartender was still waiting.

It was no use. She was going to have to ask _him_.

Aware of the impatient gaze boring into her back, she turned to the man whom she swore she'd never speak to again.

"Er, can I borrow-"

Wordlessly, he handed some coins over as Sakura fought to control a rising blush.

"Thanks," she said, trying to keep her tone from sounding resentful.

"You're welcome," he said, sounding thoroughly amused.

"Do you come here often?" she asked, more to break the tension than anything. She shifted into a more comfortable position on the stool, well aware that his surprisingly intense expression was making her nervous.

"No," the smooth velvety tones seemed to enhance his crooked smirk but she sensed no real malice behind it. Rather, he appeared to be enjoying a very private joke. "You don't strike me as a regular either".

The medic ignored his subtle poke at her background, hurriedly sipping her drink in an attempt to deflect his statement. He had guessed – correctly – that she was not the kind to stumble across a random bar and mingle with strangers but she saw no reason to clarify the matter. She hadn't had _that _much to drink.

"Well these are strange times," she said with a wry smile that was completely devoid of humour.

"Is that so?" he countered smoothly. His eyes probed hers searchingly, willing her to answer his unspoken questions.

"Well you must have at least heard about this country's new Hokage?" Sakura answered, breaking eye contact with him, suddenly very interested in her half-empty glass which merely bubbled unhelpfully in response. She was reluctant to share any information with the inquisitive stranger whose dark eyes left her exceedingly confused and unsure.

_Hokage_. She clenched her teeth. The very word was enough to rekindle the white-hot fury that lay dormant under her thinly-erected sheet of composure.

"I admit I had heard something," he replied, seemingly oblivious to her barely restrained emotions. "You don't appear to approve of him very much".

So he had noticed after all.

"Let's just say you'd do better to keep your distance from that place right now," she said. There was no mistaking the weight in her words this time but if she thought that would dissuade him she was wrong.

"Why is that?" he asked, something more than curiosity glinting in his dark onyx eyes.

But Sakura seemed to think that she'd said enough for she shook her head despondently, eyes cast downwards. "There have been a lot of changes," she said after a while. "What did you say your name was?"

There was a brief pause.

"Itsuo," he said, watching her closely. "It wasn't my intention to pry, I assure you. I visited Konoha once, long ago".

Sakura nodded, barely acknowledging his explanation. She stood up abruptly, almost knocking the stool over in her haste.

"I have to use the bathroom," she apologised. Whether she meant it or not was another matter, one that even in her own mind she had trouble deciphering. His character was difficult to pin and that coupled with a knack for making her uneasy meant that she was not entirely sorry she had to cut the conversation short.

She had almost passed him when he decided to speak. "You didn't tell me your name".

"I-," she floundered, caught off-guard by the innocently posed question. "It's Sakura," she said, desperate to escape what she imagined was a rather self-satisfied look. Inwardly, she berated herself for not coming up with a false name quickly enough. The cheap, wooden saloon doors swung angrily behind her as she stormed into the toilets with a face like thunder.

* * *

Once the irate kunoichi had disappeared from sight Itachi began to laugh silently. Never in his wildest dreams had he envisaged a scenario in which he shared a drink with the former Hokage's apprentice. She was nothing like he'd expected. Her wide, open expressions were decidedly easy to read and she appeared to have inherited Tsunade's legendary temper. Although she managed to exude an air of secrecy by refusing to divulge the recent events in Konoha which he had to admit was extremely frustrating.

He pinched the bridge of his nose exasperatedly. Meeting the medic had definitely thrown a wrench in his plans, if he was to ignore the tiny detail that he'd never had any plans to begin with. This was highly unusual for the Uchiha as he made it his top priority to have every scenario mapped out, to be prepared for every eventuality. Of course, that was all under the assumption that he'd remain dead.

Itachi sighed into his glass, reluctant to follow that train of thought further. There was nothing more he could do for Sasuke. He would be a fool to live by his regrets; to be utterly trapped in a never-ending circle of guilt and helplessness. He would do better to discard his crushed hopes and dreams and salvage something good from the smouldering wreck that was his life. Only nothing seemed worthwhile these days. He'd lost everything that mattered.

A loud squeak emitted from the cheap saloon doors – which were in dire need of oiling – effectively interrupting his musings as he looked up from his glass long enough to note a short, stout woman – who was impossible to mistake for Sakura – pass between them. Unbidden a brief image of the rain-sodden, dirt-streaked medic flashed before his eyes. He remembered the impotent expression in her eyes when she thought no one was looking, her faked nonchalance, the bitterness she felt towards her village. He had to admit he'd been rather taken aback after she'd addressed him so informally, inquiring after his health in such a manner as one would around friends. He wondered vaguely if it was simply the result of a particularly naive personality or that Konoha's standards had slipped in his absence; he'd been away so long he couldn't really tell anymore.

Over the course of the evening he had toyed with the idea of accompanying her on her journey, providing she'd consent to it. The arrangement would be advantageous for several reasons; the first being that he suspected Sakura knew where the base of her fellow fugitives was hidden, the second that she had a close relationship with the Kyuubi host and if there was anyone who could assist him in overthrowing Danzou, it was Naruto. However there were several flaws to this plan. Itachi would have to refrain from using the sharingan in Sakura's presence, upon arriving at the base it would be highly likely that Naruto would recognise him and based on tonight's performance, she could prove to be more of a hindrance than a help when it came to evading enemy shinobi.

He ran his fingers over his face tiredly. It was just a matter of concealing his identity from her long enough for her to trust him.

As if on cue, Sakura stumbled out of the bathroom looking slightly more presentable than before. Her face was clean and she'd obviously made an attempt to tame her wild, tangled hair. She sat down on the stool, a little wobbly. Itachi thought she looked a little paler than before. He was mildly surprised when she did not swivel in his direction and engage in conversation again, though on second thoughts perhaps her sudden exit to the bathroom was simply an excuse to dodge further questions rather than any real need to use it. Following her line of sight, he saw that her immediate goal was to catch the bartender's attention, or at least he presumed so by the way she continued to stare at him rigidly. To his disgust, it took only a few seconds for the sandy, unshaven man to catch her gaze and saunter over to their position.

"A glass of-," she began before Itachi decided to intervene.

"No, I think you've had quite enough to drink," he said, shooting the bartender a warning glare before turning back to the intoxicated medic.

"Oh?" She raised a pale pink eyebrow. "Since when has it been up to you to decide when I've reached my limit, Itsuo?" When he made no reply, she huffed irritably and turned her attention back to the bartender. "Ignore him. Can I have the same as last time please?"

"And how are you going to pay for it?" Itachi countered, deliberately ignoring the almost tangible desire to consume enough alcohol to spend the evening in a state of ignorant bliss emitting from the desperate medic. The idea was an attractive one he had to admit but as a shinobi she should know better than to use drink to solve her problems. She was however right on one account. What she chose to do with her time was none of his business but that did not mean he should tolerate such actions by supplying her with the money for it.

At his words, Sakura slumped forwards in her seat; a clear sign of defeat.

"You'll thank me later".

"Not likely," she grumbled in response, not bothering to re-establish eye contact with him.

He supposed he should be glad that she hadn't lashed out at him as some people were prone to do under the influence. At any rate, he was disinclined to the idea of a pub brawl which aside from resulting in a hefty bill for breakages could attract unwanted attention which could prove disastrous.

He glanced her way. She was staring resolutely at the wooden counter, a sullen expression on her face. Itachi could vaguely comprehend her turmoil through tiny, inconsequential actions and expressions such as a clenched jaw, a small shudder or the frightened rabbit look that had crossed her face on a couple of occasions. Something had shaken her that was clear. If he had to hazard a guess, he would say it had something to do with Konoha. Or Konoha's new Hokage to be specific. Perhaps he shouldn't have judged her so harshly, he mused.

At that moment, the dark-haired man spotted the owner of the Inn who had emerged from a back room to have a few words with the bartender. It struck him then that he hadn't yet reported the absence of clean towels in his room. Straightening up, he strode over to the owner; a portly, mousy-haired man and engaged him in conversation. Behind his back, Sakura cast a furtive glance in his direction before pouring a generous portion of his sake into her glass.

The significantly lower amount of Sake did not escape his attention upon returning to his seat but he refrained from commenting on the matter. It _was_ none of his business after all.

* * *

The chill night air clung to the nape of Sakura's exposed neck and dew formed on the hem of her cloak, slowly soaking the dark material. Of these discomforts the medic was not even remotely aware considering that her intoxicated state had all but vanquished the sensation of cold. Her body granted the illusion of producing heat in vast quantities so it was actually quite pleasant to sit on the freezing stone step and gaze contentedly at the stars.

The rain had finally abated, leaving treacherous muddy roads and a pungent earthly smell behind. Thank heaven for small mercies. She'd endured enough rain to last a lifetime. Absentmindedly she drew a pattern in the soft, squidgy earth attempting to withhold the nausea that had plagued her from the moment the fresh, clean air hit her face. She took several deep, steadying gasps in an attempt to dispel the sudden unpleasant reaction brought on by roughly nine units of alcohol. A sudden uncontrollable wave hit her and she stumbled drunkenly towards a couple of heavy iron bins conveniently in the vicinity. It was at that moment that she decided never to drink again.

Wiping the back of her hand across her mouth, she resumed her position on the chilly step feeling slightly better. The after-effects were gradually wearing off and were taken place by a growing sensation of embarrassment and horror. There was no denying that she had been extremely rude towards Itsuo. Asking to borrow his money while knowing full well that she couldn't pay him back and stealing his Sake – out of desperation to keep her fears at bay – when he wasn't looking; what the hell had she been thinking? It was the kind of behaviour that Sakura had frowned upon in Konoha and placing the blame upon her intoxicated state just didn't cut it. Why, oh why hadn't she the common sense to keep her mouth shut?

Pink, candy-coloured locks formed a veil over her face as she hugged her knees anxiously. She was a total wreck.

She did not know how long she sat there. What felt like minutes later but could have in fact been hours, the door behind her creaked open. Warm, bright light spilled out over the step like liquid gold as someone exited the inn. Instead of the unknown stranger skirting around her, she felt an unexpected presence at her side. Slowly she raised her head. It was Itsuo.

"I thought you might need some assistance," he said by way of explanation. "Can I sit down?"

"Obviously, you've just done so," she replied, the corner of her mouth twitching into a half-hearted smile.

Cowed by her mortification, she lapsed back into an uncomfortable silence. A chill breeze had picked up rustling the leaves of the sparse trees that littered the area. Sakura shivered. Though she was by no means sober, the effects of her drinking spree had lessened somewhat and she was able to think clearly, or at least she thought so. For the first time since she had met Itsuo she was on guard. Questions such as why he had taken such an interest in her bubbled to the forefront of her mind. After all, what stranger would lend her money and follow her outside on the pretence of being worried about her? From her experience it meant that they were only interested in one thing. Sex. But he had prevented her from drinking anymore hadn't he? Surely that would be counter-productive if his true motive had been to indulge in an evening of rampant sex with a young, wasted medic no longer under the protection of her village – easy prey in other words.

So if not sex, what was it he wanted?

She watched the man in question for some minutes. His dark, long hair was slung casually over one shoulder, his gaze was fixed straight ahead and his position was that of a man content to remain in that pose for another hour. If they were going to have a conversation it would have be her that initiated it she realised.

"I'm sorry I'm not very good company," she spoke to her knees.

"Am I any better?" Itsuo said out loud, momentarily deviating from his surveillance of the stars to glance her way.

"You're not the one that steals other people's drinks," she pointed out. He smiled. "How long have I been out here anyway?"

"A couple of hours".

"Two hours?" she repeated, rather shocked that what felt like half an hour had in reality been two.

"That's what I said," he replied which she ignored, standing up so fast she felt dizzy. "Where are you going?"

"Inside," the medic said distractedly, gathering up her cloak and reaching for her bag but it wasn't there. She spun on the spot, scouring the ground for the elusive satchel with growing panic. Suddenly she spied it in his hand. "Give me my bag back, Itsuo," her tone taking on a hard edge.

"On one condition," he raised a finger to emphasise the point. "You inform me of the most recent goings on in Konoha. I am rather curious I have to admit about your abrupt departure from the village". From the look of outraged amazement on her face he continued, "Look, it's fairly obvious that whatever your reasons you weren't given a choice. You mentioned there have been a lot of changes to the village. No doubt that will have created some political tension between those that favoured the new and old. I guess you were unfortunate enough to be on the losing side".

"Screw you," she snarled snatching the bag from his loose fingers and hoisting it over her shoulder. It had greatly surprised her how astute his perceptions of her predicament were but she had no time to be impressed by his observations. In fact his superior manner – whether intentional or not – had a knack for getting under her skin. It felt rather like he was mocking her. A few wood shavings fluttered to the floor as she yanked the door open with the force of a battering ram.

Itachi stared at the spot where she'd vanished stoically. He had not meant to upset her in such a way though on reflection perhaps he had come across as rather callous. Her reaction had surprised him though he didn't show it. Vaguely he wondered if he should follow her before dismissing it with a shake of his head. It was almost certain that what had started out as a reasonable plan was now doomed to failure.

* * *

Sakura unpacked up the last of her sodden items from the rucksack and hung them on the small, rustic radiator that was included in her tiny rented room. According to the owner she'd been lucky even to acquire this room for the night as they were fully-booked. The customer who'd reserved this room had never showed so in a moment of compassion he'd granted her the room for the night, unlike the bartender who'd probably only let her have the room if she'd agreed to allow him a quick peek at her breasts.

"Pig," she shook her head disgustedly.

Gingerly, she peeled off her mud-caked garments and chucked them in the sink before jumping into the tiny, cast-iron bath to enjoy a well-earned, refreshing soak. Soft, insubstantial tendrils of vapour rose up from the steamy water, swirling into interesting shapes as she watched. It was satisfying to watch but not a patch on the sensation of feeling clean again. When the bubbles had almost gone and her fingers were beginning to shrivel, she heard a knock at the door.

With a sigh, she reached for a snowy-white towel and wrapped it securely around her dripping form, careful not to slop a load of water over the floorboards as she extricated herself from the bath.

"Who is it?" she called as she hurried towards the door, slightly annoyed at the intrusion. There was a pause.

"It's me".

There was no need to ask who that voice belonged to.

"Go away," she said through the door.

"I have one thing to say first".

Sakura considered saying no but then relented. The door was locked. If worse came to worse she could simply ignore the man. "Let's hear it then".

"Can't you open the door?" He sounded rather exasperated.

"Fine," she sighed wondering why she gave in so easily. She reached over to unhook the thin chain and turn the brass handle. Instantly, she became acutely aware of the fact that she was standing before him wrapped in nothing more than one of the inn's complimentary bath towels. She folded her arms across her chest irritably, hoping to hide her discomfort. "You have one minute".

At the sound of her words, he appeared to regain his composure and she was pleased to see that he addressed her directly, rather than stare unabashed at the flimsy towel. She wondered if she should re-evaluate her ugly opinion of him slightly.

"Don't worry; I shall not discuss the topic of your village again," he reassured her. "It was..." he searched for a word, "thoughtless of me. I do however have a proposition for you".

"Oh?" The medic asked wearily, accepting that the apology was the best she was going to get but unwilling to prolong the conversation any longer than necessary.

"I wish to accompany you on your journey," he said smoothly as though expecting her to consider the matter.

The request threw her completely off guard and it was all she could to gape unattractively at him for a few seconds before suddenly finding her voice.

"You're out of your mind," she snarled, slamming the door on what she thought was a very arrogant expression.

Once she was sure he'd gone she leant heavily against the door, breathing like a winded rhinoceros. Her tousled rose-coloured hair fell over her face, hiding her expression of enraged incredulity. How dare he, she fumed inwardly. How dare he have the audacity to voice such a request after all he'd said? Was that what he'd been angling after all along? Or was it perhaps to do with the state of her village that had first interested him?

"What does it matter?" she said aloud. "I'll leave as soon as it's light. He won't be a problem".

Of one thing she was certain: she would rather die than travel with him as a partner. And with a bit of luck, she'd never have to see him again.

* * *

**A/N: Please review :)  
**


	4. Out Of The Frying Pan, Into The Fire

**A/N:** Wow! It's been a long time since I last updated this. I don't know how many people still read it actually. Enjoy the chapter and I'd love to hear your feedback!

* * *

**Chapter Four: Out Of The Frying Pan, Into The Fire**

The next morning dawned bright and cold. Sunlight streamed through a gap between the drab, faded curtains, awaking the exhausted medic more effectively than the sounds outside her door as the other guests began to stir. With wakefulness came a pounding headache. Rubbing sleep from her bleary eyes Sakura climbed gingerly out of bed, reluctant to surrender the comfort of her covers. She did not have the luxury of nursing her hangover. She sensed that she had overstayed her welcome at the little inn. Peeling back one of the mouldy curtains she scanned the road outside, half-expecting to see a platoon of battle-hardened ANBU. The road was deserted.

Sakura shook her head. She was being paranoid, she told herself. She had not seen hide or hair of a single tracker for the last twelve hours. It was possible that the rain had obscured both her tracks and scent. However, she couldn't shake the nagging sensation that she was endangering herself by staying here.

Striding over to the tiny sink, Sakura drank a glass of water which took the edge off her nausea and decided that would have to do. Ready to leave, she picked up her rucksack with dismay; it was completely soaked from the thorough drenching it received the night before. However there was nothing to be done about it now. Sighing heavily, Sakura gave the room one last sweeping glance and left.

Halfway down the narrow, rickety staircase, the medic paused. Standing at the very bottom and blocking her way, was the man from the night before. Itsuo. A wave of irritation swept over her. That man got under her skin without even trying and coupled with a splitting headache and a short fuse, Sakura was only moments from punching him squarely in the gut. Yet whispered words of caution flittered through her mind as she hoisted her rucksack a little higher and continued down the steps. She needed to maintain a low profile. Picking a fight in an inn would draw unnecessary attention.

"Well?" she asked with a hint of venom upon reaching the bottom step. Her eyes flickered with anger and frown lines creased her brow. She paused, expecting an answer but none came. "Are you going to move aside?" She prompted.

Itsuo's lip twitched into what could almost be a smile. "Of course," he replied smoothly. "After you".

Sakura scowled but found she had nothing to say, so she swept past him into the bar. Itsuo followed.

"I told you, you're not coming with me," she reminded the dark-haired man, trying vainly to keep her temper under control. Her fingers tightened on the straps of her rucksack.

"I know," he replied unconcernedly. "But there's nothing wrong with breakfast, is there?"

Sakura's eyes narrowed. What game was he playing? She opened her mouth to argue but suddenly realised how hungry she was. She wasn't going to win any races on an empty stomach and it was highly improbable that she'd find anything better to eat on the road.

"Fine," she said grudgingly.

Several minutes later Sakura sidled into a seat opposite the dark-haired man. She saw that he had selected a bowl of miso soup which looked very meagre next to her towering plate of eggs and bacon. Acutely aware that it had been an entire day since she last ate, the girl began to devour the bacon with some enthusiasm.

Itsuo remained silent throughout the affair for which Sakura was grateful. She found his company irritating but as she was currently preoccupied with eating her breakfast, she found him rather easy to ignore. She didn't understand what his fascination in her was, why he continued to pry into her life and disrupt it further by attempting to accompany her. He had no idea where she was headed or what she was running from. In short, he didn't know what he was getting himself into nor did he seem to care. She didn't know what to make of him; one minute he was all politeness and charm and the next he was an irritating jerk. She wasn't sure which was worse.

"How are you feeling?"

She shrugged her shoulders in a non-committal way and carried on wolfing down her bacon.

"I apologise if I was a little forward last night," he continued, unperturbed by her silence. Sakura almost choked on her bacon. He was actually apologising. "I think my request was a little ill-timed," he continued. "You seemed... distracted". His eyes searched her face attentively, as though hoping to find answers.

"It doesn't matter," Sakura said. "The answer would have been the same. I prefer to travel alone."

"Hmm," he said speculatively.

"What?" She replied slightly irritated.

Itsuo stared at her appraisingly for one long moment. "Travelling alone does have its merits of course but I think a person in your position would be ill advised to do so."

"A person in my-," she countered angrily. "What are you talking about?"

She glared at him, outraged by his presumptuous words. She was not some helpless civilian incapable of defending herself. Nor was she an inexperienced genin with no hope of evading or defeating her enemies. This man knew nothing of her, she thought furiously. She groped around her memory for the murky fragments of conversation she could remember from the previous evening. He had been extraordinarily perceptive. He had guessed something of her current situation but he knew nothing for certain except that she was from Konoha. She had a feeling that if she did give into his request, it wouldn't take him long to work out the whole story. The idea of him accompanying her became even more unpleasant, if possible.

"I'd have thought it rather obvious," he said. "You have run away from home and intend to leave the Fire country as soon as possible. Uncommon but definitely not unheard of. The great shinobi nations are known for being very ah... intolerant of traitors, Konoha included. So it is definitely in your best interest to have an ally."

"Maybe," Sakura relented. "But why should that be you?"

"Something you should have asked from the very beginning," Itsuo replied, smiling faintly. "How do you know you can trust me? The answer is you don't. You will have to make that decision yourself."

"I think you just like to complicate matters," she grumbled, prodding her fried egg with a fork. "It would be easier to ignore you. I think you need to work on your powers of persuasion."

"I am alerting you to the dangers of your situation," he disagreed. "There are advantages and disadvantages to having me as an ally. For example, if you were to leave without me I could assist Konoha shinobi in tracking you."

Sakura started, an expression of alarm crossing her face. "Why-," she gasped. "Why would you do that?"

"You have only just met me," he said smoothly. "How can you know what my plans are? If I have any ulterior motives?"

Sakura stared at him, her mind working furiously as she came to her conclusion.

"Well I guess that leaves me no choice," she answered. "I'll just have to kill you".

Uncertain of how he would react to her words, she had unconsciously readied herself for a fight. Nothing however could have prepared her for this.

Itsuo threw back his head and laughed as though she had told a very amusing joke. "I'd like to see you try".

"Don't mock me," she hissed angrily.

Itsuo shook his head, the ghost of a smile still upon his lips. "I wasn't mocking you. It's been so long since anyone has challenged me like that."

Sakura looked rather dubious. She folded her arms huffily, not in the mood to play games. "I thought you were a mercenary?" She asked disinterestedly. "I'd have thought you'd hear statements like that regularly".

"A mercenary?" The amused smile was back. "Something like that."

"You're so cryptic," Sakura replied.

"Does it bother you?"

"It's annoying," she answered.

She scraped the last few fragments of breakfast onto her fork, leaving a clean plate. The chair squeaked as she rose from the table and she deposited her plate onto a stack of dirty dishes. She headed towards the door, trying to feel indifferent to the knowledge that she was being rude by not saying goodbye.

"Sakura," she heard him call. She ignored him. "Sakura!"

She turned slowly. It would be childish to continue the pretence now. "What?" Her voice had a bite of impatience to it.

"You've decided." It wasn't a question.

"Yes," she nodded.

"I'm glad you've decided not to kill me at least. I wouldn't have wanted to hurt you".

She gave a slight smile. "Maybe I'm making a mistake but I don't think you'd betray me to them." She shrugged. "Just a feeling I have."

"I'll only ask you one more time. Will you allow me to accompany you?" Itsuo asked. He doubted her answer had changed but it was worth a try. If her answer was no, he would follow her at a distance. He was determined to locate all those who were disloyal to Danzou and she would lead him to them.

"Nice try but no," Sakura said frostily. "I'm leaving."

She pushed past him, eager to exit the smoky, dusty inn. Without warning a hand shot out to grab her wrist and pulled her away from the door. "Wait," Itsuo's voice breathed in her ear.

"Let go of me," Sakura snarled, attempting to pry his fingers off her skin. He wasn't listening. His entire body was tense, poised for action. His senses tingled as adrenaline pumped through his body. Sakura's angry threats became background noise. His senses strained to detect that tiny flash of energy he'd sensed. It could be a civilian, he reasoned, but that didn't explain why he couldn't sense them now. Maybe he was overreacting but-

Wham! Sakura caught him off guard with a sharp, chakra-enforced elbow to the gut. He collapsed, white spots exploding across his vision as he gasped for breath. Yet even the pain could not distract him from detecting tiny pinpricks of chakra which flared into existence around the inn. They were surrounded.

"Sakura, stop!" he choked, fighting back the pain as she ran past him out into the blazing sunlight.

* * *

_He watched as burning buildings lit up the sky like huge pyres. His heartbeat quickened as agonised screams rent the air. Dark eyes squinted through the rain. A fleeing body of people surged through the streets, crushing market stalls, pots and people who were knocked over by the sheer force of the crowd. He could smell their fear from here. Ahead, several squads of ANBU emerged from behind buildings, creating a roadblock. They had nowhere to go. He turned away. He did not need to watch to know what happened next. One thing was for sure, his friends were not among them._

_Sakura's place was closest, so he struck out across the rooftops, cutting down two unfortunate ANBU who happened to be standing in his way. His shoes clack-clacked over the tiles, almost as though they were counting down the time he had left before he was too late._

_The man skidded to a halt outside Sakura's apartment, praying that he wasn't too late. The green shutters lay wide open, revealing a scene of utter devastation. Her room looked as though it had been ransacked. His breath caught in his throat as he suddenly became aware of a dark shape huddled against the wall. A moment later he resumed breathing. That shape was too large to be Sakura and, he noticed her medical kit was missing. She had been alive when she left._

_With renewed vigour he exited the building, following her haphazard trail across the rooftops. Loud crashes and yells echoed behind him. It did not take him long to realise the route was taking him straight towards Ino's house. The tension in his gut lessened slightly. She had a better chance of survival with someone to watch her back._

_Something in the street below caught his eye. Frowning, he paused and squinted through the sheet of rain to the deserted road below. The house opposite was little more than a ruin, but it was not that which caught his attention. White fingers, already gripping shuriken in one hand, went slack. Only instinct stopped them slipping from his grasp. Noiselessly he slid down the red terracotta tiles and off the roof. He walked over to the house in a dreamlike state; his mind reeling, a sickening sensation in his gut._

_He took the last few steps at a run. Reaching down, he gently clasped the hand of a dark-haired figure with exceedingly bushy eyebrows slumped against the wall._

"_Gai". He gazed down on his old rival, seemingly lost for words. An oppressive weight lay upon his shoulders. He had rarely felt so helpless._

_Gai's hand twitched in his and he started in surprise. His voice had acted like a stimulant to the dying man, for his eyelids fluttered weakly and then opened._

"_Kakashi-," Gai said laboriously, as though every syllable was costing him all his remaining strength. Blood bubbled at the corners of his mouth. "You came a little too late"._

Tap, tap, tap.

Kakashi 's eyes snapped open, his body tense and alert. The same plain, cream ceiling greeted him like it did every day. It knew nothing of the horrors he had endured; it bore no evidence to show that anything had changed at all. He glanced around cautiously, taking in the haphazard arrangement of clothing around his room, his partially drawn curtains and a plate of last night's dinner on the floor.

Tap, tap, tap.

Bleary-eyed, he stumbled out of bed, realising as he did so that having a visitor was not a good omen. Anyone he would welcome was either dead or a fugitive. He rubbed his chin absent-mindedly, feeling a layer of stubble. He received a shock when he caught sight of himself in the mirror. His hair was a mess, he had dark circles under his eyes and he looked all the worse for the fact that he hadn't showered in days.

Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap.

He sighed deeply and pulled on the mask that had become almost as famous as himself. With an air of hoping to get over it as quickly as possible, he opened the door. He blinked owlishly in the sudden sunlight, just about able to discern the two ANBU standing on his doorstep.

"Hatake Kakashi".

"Yes?" He answered tersely.

"You will meet the Hokage in the interrogation block. Immediately," the left one said from under his mask. Kakashi didn't like his tone. It was commanding and authoritative. He didn't like to be ordered anywhere. He shrugged off the instinct to rebel.

"Right," he answered indifferently. He made to close the door.

"Now," the ANBU member said harshly. "The Hokage will not wait for anyone".

Kakashi sighed. "I will come when ready. The Hokage can wait a few more minutes".

The man laughed; a mocking nasal sound. "Your tardiness is almost as legendary as your supposed great deeds," he sneered. "All I see is a filthy, drunken wreck. I'm surprised you remember your own name".

Kakashi gripped the door frame with such force; it was close to splintering but his demeanour otherwise remained unchanged. This man would never have dared say these things to his face a week or two ago but since Kakashi had fallen in the Hokage's favour, mediocre shinobi appeared emboldened by his disgrace. Malicious rumours were no doubt circulating about him and so far, he appeared to be living up to their expectations. The Hokage would want him to look as if he was past his prime. His skills were diminished and he spent his days drinking himself into an early grave. Well, perhaps the gossipers had got one part right, he thought wryly.

"Well, at least allow this filthy, drunken wreck the courtesy of changing," Kakashi replied, sarcasm dripping through every word.

Only then did he close the door. He stood momentarily with his back to the wall and ran his fingers through his dishevelled hair. He should have expected this, he berated himself silently. He knew his reputation was a smouldering wreck but it was experiencing it he found shocking. He was not used to being disrespected, by anyone.

The silver-haired man stumbled back to his room and after rummaging around for several minutes, found some clothing that was not too creased. He appraised himself in the mirror. It would do. Before he left, he picked up his razor and decided they could wait perhaps another ten minutes. After all, he had a reputation to keep.

* * *

The interrogation block was a cheerless building of concrete surrounded by an asphalt compound. Inside, the corridors felt narrow and oppressive. Steel plated doors guarded the entrance to every cell and there were no windows to remind prisoners that there was even a world outside the four walls. It was a dank and dismal place. It was not surprising therefore, that Danzou was in his element.

Kakashi found him in a room off the main interrogation chamber. A one way screen was installed on the left wall, allowing people to observe freely. He glanced at it as he came in but it was dark. Clearly, the room was not in use.

"Hokage-sama," he said in the most respectable tones he could muster. It was customary to bow when greeting the Hokage but Kakashi merely jerked his head irritably. He had not sunk so low as to be completely subservient.

"Kakashi." Danzou's smile was cruel and malicious. "How nice of you to join us".

Kakashi said nothing. No reply he could think of would be well received. He glanced at Neji leaning casually against the control board and wondered whether the rumours were true. Had he sold out his friends for power? Neji's silver grey eyes gave nothing away.

"I will not tolerate tardiness from anyone," he continued harshly. "You seem to be suffering under the delusion that because of who you are, you can arrive at your own leisure. You couldn't be more mistaken".

Danzou's menacing, dark eyes were boring into Kakashi's as though expecting him to yield. He didn't blink.

"I assure you Hokage-sama that that is not the case. My loyalty-"

"Your loyalty is nothing more than cowardice. You dare not oppose me and leaving is no longer an option. Your inaction is predictable. So much for the will of fire," he said, contempt clearly etched on his face.

Cold fury emanated from the copy-cat shinobi but he remained stock still. The slightest clenching of his fist or gritting of his teeth would not go unnoticed by the two men analysing his every move.

"It is you who is mistaken, Hokage-sama," Kakashi replied after a lengthy silence.

Clearly, this was not the reaction Danzou was hoping for.

"I am disappointed in you, Kakashi. I had hoped that these surroundings would have given you a feeling of... perspective".

There was another pause. Kakashi's eyes flickered to the silent Hyuuga, searching his stoic features for an answer. His face was unreadable.

"Am I here to be interrogated then, Hokage-sama?"

Danzou's face cracked into a wide smile, as though the thought of torturing the recalcitrant shinobi would give him no greater pleasure. Kakashi's breath hitched in his throat. Legend or not, he would not escape Konoha alive while the newly erected barrier was still standing. And if the stories were true, it would prove harder to break than the previous one.

"Don't tempt me, Hatake," Danzou growled, clearly amused. "If I had even the slightest suspicion that you had information on the traitors' whereabouts, you would be on the other side of this wall".

Kakashi glanced past Danzou to Neji lounging against the control panel. For the first time the Hyuuga looked uncomfortable.

"In fact," Danzou resumed. "The purpose of this meeting was to establish whether you were fit to return to active duty. So far I haven't been impressed by your attitude, Hatake. I thought that the purification would have put your priorities in perspective but you remain as arrogant as ever".

"I am nothing but loyal to-,"

"Unfortunately, your loyalty remains in question. On the night of the purification you were not where you were supposed to be. Some of your friends were part of the insurgence. It would not surprise me to learn that you defied your orders that night in order to help them escape".

"Hokage-sama, I-"

"This is your final chance, Hatake." Danzou continued. "I want your full unwavering loyalty. You must cut ties with those false allies who never gave you a thought when fleeing the village. You must obey every order without question".

"My loyalty is yours," he lied smoothly. "I will do whatever my Hokage commands of me".

"Good," Danzou's smile was twisted. "I'm sure you'll do your village proud".

He turned and stared at the blank screen. "Forgive me for not taking you at your word alone, Hatake," his crooked fingers inched towards a button on the control panel, "but considering your history I require some insurance".

A lone light bulb flickered into existence in the room beyond illuminating a pale figure bound to a chair. Kakashi's eyes widened with shock and recognition. The lies he was about to voice stuck in his throat. _So this is how you would coerce me, is it?_

The prisoner looked thin and underfed. This person hadn't washed in days. Dirt and blood smeared the prisoner's sparrow-like arms and legs. A thick mantle of hair covered a beaten, dejected face. Next to them, Kakashi felt very well groomed indeed.

He turned his gaze away from the pitiful sight. Danzou gave him an intense calculating look, trying hard to conceal an intense look of satisfaction on his face. Neji looked definitely uncomfortable. His silver eyes were downcast.

"If you value this pathetic traitor's life, you will do everything I command without question," Danzou's authoritative tones cut through Kakashi like a knife. "Don't forget, a shinobi who cannot obey their Hokage is less than worthless".

* * *

Sakura skidded to a halt, causing a plume of dirt to rise into the air. A single man in a white mask stood at the corner of the track, silently observing her. Shock and fear were the fuel to her adrenaline and she was off before the dust cloud had begun to settle. There was no doubt within her mind that this was a scout. She had to reach him before he alerted the rest of his squad to her presence. She couldn't believe that they had tracked her this far.

A hand jerked her backwards and she almost went sprawling. "Itsuo," she snarled. "What are you doing?"

"Saving your life," he said grimly.

"I _don't_ need your help!" She yanked her hand out of his grasp and continued up the track.

Deep mud-filled holes littered the dirt trail as Sakura continued along the path to the forest. Nimbly she dodged them all and it was only upon the perimeter of the forest that Itsuo caught up with her again.

"Don't," he breathed softly, one arm wrapped firmly around her waist. His warm breath tickled her ear and his large, pale hands felt steady and self-assured. Sakura instinctively shrank away from the closeness of their bodies. "There are more of them up ahead. This one is a decoy".

"How do you know?" she whispered back.

"Close your eyes," he murmured. "Focus on even the tiniest pin-prick of chakra".

She tilted her head up to see his face with a dubious expression.

"No harm will come to you while I'm here," he promised.

Sakura grimaced inwardly. If only it was that easy. Yet some part of her felt reassured by his presence, she almost felt safe. Almost as though coming to an unconscious decision, she let go of her fears and closed her eyes.

Darkness. She could sense nothing but the slow, steady life flow of the plants, the trees and if she concentrated harder, even the insects that lived beneath the soil. It was chakra in its most basic form; not the kind that could easily be manipulated and, right now that was the only kind Sakura cared about. A flash of light blinded her vision but as soon as it appeared, it vanished. Her face screwed up with concentration as she tried to identify its source. Chakra could be stored, manipulated or transferred but it never vanished completely.

There! She sensed the tiny pin-prick of chakra Itsuo was talking about. It was almost completely suppressed. Sakura marvelled at the skill that would require. Now she could sense more of them. Four in all. So Itsuo had been telling the truth after all. She opened her eyes slowly.

"You were right," she breathed. "There's four of them waiting to ambush us in a clearing up ahead".

"Impressive," Itsuo smiled his ironic smile. "But I think you'll find there's six".

"This doesn't mean I trust you".

"Of course not," he said seriously. "But if you want to escape this encounter alive then I'm afraid you're going to have to".


	5. Trust Issues

**A/N:** Managed to get this one out fairly quickly and its a little longer than usual too! A huge thanks to those of you who reviewed! I really appreciate hearing your thoughts and they are an excellent motivator!

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Naruto in any way shape or form.

* * *

**Chapter Five: Trust Issues**

* * *

It didn't take long for the ANBU members to investigate when their scout never returned. Itachi glanced over at Sakura hidden amongst some bushes as he'd suggested. Her face was pale but set with determination. She was beginning to listen to him, he realised with satisfaction. Silently he straightened up behind his tree as their quarry neared. His only concern was that he had misjudged the kunoichi's skills. He hoped she'd progressed from that small weak girl he remembered.

That particular fear proved groundless when Sakura effortlessly took out the first shinobi to shoot through the trees with a well-aimed blow to the jugular. Only now he had another problem to contend with. He had warned her to use as little chakra as possible whilst taking them out: it was the only way they could maintain their cover.

"Sakura, you idiot," he muttered, rising fluidly from his position amongst the trees. Now every single member of the squad knew where to find her.

A twig snapped ominously behind him. He spun around to face two white-masked men converging on him. One broad sweep of his kunai and they both collapsed like marionettes, blood gushing freely from their throats. It was too easy.

In those few crucial seconds he'd taken his eye off Sakura, she had engaged in combat with two faceless men. They were dancing out of her reach, forcing her to waste her energy on pointless advances while they conserved their strength.

A brief flash of chakra alerted him to danger a split second before it happened. He sprung out of the way as a sharp pointed block of earth erupted from the ground, the exact point he had been standing just a second before. He scanned the ground, branches and bushes for the attacker before locating him. He was some metres away crouched down between the bowels of an enormous tree, one hand pressed firmly to the ground.

Itachi's perfect, smooth face was mask-like, hiding all traces of irritation. Normally this man would have been dead before he'd had chance to press his fingers to the dirt. Travelling with Sakura did have its limitations. He couldn't risk using the sharingan. There was no question of his victory against this opponent but it would waste valuable time. It would all be for nothing if Sakura died. How ironic that his precautions were threatening to ruin his chances of finding the rebel band of Konoha shinobi.

Well, he'd just have to make it quick then.

Pale fingers formed the familiar hand seals without thought and within the blink of an eye three perfect imitations of Itachi materialized behind dense patches of vegetation. Their chakra levels were controlled so flawlessly that it was impossible to distinguish between them and the real Itachi. With unparalleled speed two of the clones sped ahead while the third fell back to assist Sakura. Itachi was taking no chances.

A quarter of a mile away, the pink-haired medic wiped several beads of sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand. A sudden wave of fatigue swept through her limbs as she held her stance warily, watching for any indication of movement. The two shinobi were in better shape than she was; their breathing only slightly laboured. One false move and she was history. The men advanced, forcing her towards a dense patch of trees: a confined area with little room to manoeuvre. Sakura gritted her teeth angrily. It was almost impossible for her to land a hit as it made her vulnerable to attack. They were pressing her so hard she had no time to form hand seals. She could only react to their furious onslaught by defending herself the best she could. Her arm rose up instinctively. One punch blocked. She spun around to her left and attempted a sharp jab at one man's chest. Quick as lightning she fell back as she avoided his counter attack. She pivoted on the spot, one leg swinging round in an elegant arc but they avoided it easily.

Her sharp eyes saw a slight opening and she took it. There was no time to assess the consequences. This could be the only chance she got. The medic launched herself at the surprised shinobi. His shoulder crunched and splintered from the tremendous pressure of her fist. His agonised scream was cut off abruptly as Sakura administered a well-aimed blow to his torso. A faint rushing sound caused her to spin around in alarm, realising too late that she had left herself wide open to attack.

She blinked in confusion. The second shinobi lay on the ground, clearly dead while Itsuo stood over him, a grim expression foremost on his features. Sakura stood up shakily, watching her saviour with apprehensive wide eyes. She was instantly aware of the smudges of dirt mixed in with smears of mud over her bare arms, legs and face compared to Itsuo who didn't have so much of a scratch. A look of uncertainty crossed her face. Who was this man?

Before she had time to even begin to phrase her conflicting thoughts he vanished, in a puff of smoke. The medic blinked. A clone? A fucking clone! Fury shot through her as it all clicked into place. She'd called him a mercenary and he'd never bothered to contradict her because it all made sense now. He was a shinobi.

Small plants and dry bracken gave way under her furious footfalls as she strode angrily towards the place where she'd seen him last. "Itsuo!" she raged, kicking aside small stones as she searched the forest for the strange, elusive man. "Where are you?"

"I'm here," a quiet voice answered close by. Sakura looked around, unnerved. Itsuo was leaning casually against a tree, his face partially shaded by the luminous green canopy that sheltered the forest. She inched closer, alert for danger. "Are you alright?" he asked her, genuinely concerned.

"No I'm not," she glared at him. "You lied to me".

Her jade eyes watched him carefully, judging his reaction. A brief flash of something flickered in his eyes. Sakura wasn't sure if she imagined it; his body gave nothing away. He stared at her uncomprehendingly.

"What do you mean?" he asked slowly.

The medic crossed her arms in annoyance. She hated it when people feigned innocence.

"You know what I mean," she replied irately.

"Perhaps you'd like to explain it to me".

His complete bewilderment was really getting under her skin.

"You are a shinobi," she hissed, spelling out each word slowly and carefully so there could be no mistaking her meaning.

Itsuo relaxed slightly. Sakura's eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"I did not lie to you, Sakura," he answered calmly. She almost interrupted in protest but Itsuo began to talk again. "You never asked me if I was a shinobi. You made your own assumptions".

"You lied by omission," she countered, determined to win this personal battle. "You can't argue against that".

His sigh was barely audible. Clearly the conversation was going not the way he wanted.

"This is pointless. When the squad does not report back others will come looking. We need to put as much distance as we can between here before they arrive".

"We?" Sakura echoed incredulously. "I thought I made myself clear. There is no "we". We are _not _travelling together Itsuo".

"You don't have a choice," Itsuo replied. "You need me".

"No," she shook her head angrily, cascades of pink hairs falling over her dirt-streaked face. "I don't".

"What would happen if you encountered another squad Sakura?" He said softly. "Think about this logically. You could not take them on alone and I doubt you have the skill to evade experienced trackers."

Her sharp rebuke died on her lips. "I'll be fine," she said, surprised at how unsure she sounded. She sat down on a moss-covered log, covering her face in her hands as she reviewed her options. Though it pained her to admit it, Itsuo was making sense. She sighed deeply. She had to be honest with herself. The truth was that she didn't think she had it in her to place her faith in this man. Her trust was slim and fragile, damaged and broken. It was a hard decision to make. Afraid to trust him yet incapable of surviving alone. She rose from the log slowly, aware for the first time of the damp that was seeping through her clothes.

There was only one logical conclusion.

* * *

At Itsuo's instruction they spent most of the day under the cool shade of the trees, trying to cover as much ground as possible while simultaneously confusing their trail. Sakura found it very tedious. It involved a lot of back-tracking and creating false trails. Her skills in this area were basic so Itsuo had delegated to her the lesser task of creating the false trails with some clones while he laboured over the much harder task of concealing their own. Once Itsuo even insisted that they should wade upstream through a narrow and swift channel of water. He was adamant that they should not use chakra to stay above it. The less they used, the better he said. Sakura had agreed, very reluctantly. The water scarcely came up to her ankles yet the medic loathed this part of the journey. Her three-day flight had worn a hole in one of her boots and she winced as the icy water seeped in. It was not a pleasant sensation.

It was surprising and a little embarrassing to discover that Itsuo's keen eye and obvious expertise were easily a class above her own. He was far more skilled than he let on. This worried Sakura as she wondered what other secrets he'd been hiding and she had difficulty believing that someone would go to so much trouble to save her own skin without wanting something in return.

As the day wore on, her energy levels flagged and her thoughts dwelled on more important things such as where she was going to sleep when night fell. The sky had turned a dusky pink, shooting rays of golden light through the gaps in the trees. The effect was magical. Sakura was too tired to care. They stumbled upon an abandoned cave, nestled at the base of a small hillside. It was shallow and dry inside. Perfect for two weary, footsore ninjas to rest in. Sakura sank gratefully against a sandy wall, accidentally showering herself with hundreds of tiny grains of sand in her exhaustion.

"Wait here," Itsuo commanded. "I'll scout out the area".

Sakura raised her head tiredly, struggling to focus on the dark-haired man's face. She barely noticed the absence of his presence and jumped what felt like several minutes later when he returned, arms laden with various twigs and branches.

"The area is secure," Itsuo said with a certainty which still managed to bring a frown to her face despite her sleep-deprived state. How could he be sure so sure?

She hugged her knees, eying the wood apprehensively. "Isn't fire a bit risky?" she questioned. "What if someone saw?"

"It is a risk," Itsuo replied. "But I think there is little cause for concern. Our trail will be almost impossible to track now".

The medic nodded wearily and hugged herself tighter as if to keep the pangs of hunger at bay. She studied Itsuo's face in the growing darkness, eyes following the sweep of his ebony hair, the shape of his jaw line and the warm, dark depths of his eyes as he built the frame for their small campfire. It struck her again how familiar he looked. Sakura sighed. She was being absurd. There was a most likely a completely innocent explanation for it; she was just looking for anything that reminded her of home. Plenty of people had long dark hair in Konoha. She suddenly felt miserable.

She stood up hastily, her head nearly brushing the roof of the cave. Itsuo watched her questioningly.

"Would you like anything to eat?" Sakura said. Despite her tiredness; she was eager to keep her hands busy. She needed a distraction.

Itsuo didn't reply. He continued to place the twigs into an intricate spiral pattern, quite unlike any campfire technique Sakura had seen. A frown creased her brow. It irked her that she was being ignored. She strode towards the mouth of the cave without a backward glance.

The chill night air clung to her skin like clothes as she wandered through the undergrowth, crouching and searching for anything that might be edible. The lack of light shrouded everything in grey, hindering her search. Even the tiny pin-pricks of light that wheeled overheard provided little illumination. However the search did not turn out to be completely fruitless. She discovered some mushrooms nestled between the roots of a tree and chanced upon some purple berries which had been a favourite at home. A hard lump formed in her throat as she picked off the ripest ones. Eager to be away from her treacherous thoughts she hastened back to the small cave.

The small fire was crackling merrily when she returned. Flames danced on the walls, filling the cavern with a restful orange glow. Itsuo lay against one wall; his face was drawn and pale. He didn't look up until Sakura sat next to him, a weak smile upon her face as she offered him a meagre amount of berries and mushrooms. Itsuo appraised her for a moment, taking in her wearied expression before taking some food.

"Thanks," he murmured, lapsing back into silence.

The medic watched him for a few moments longer than was strictly necessary, trying to decipher his mood. At times he seemed strange and distant, much like the first night she'd met him. This dark, brooding Itsuo was even harder to stomach than the infuriating, arrogant one. It elicited within her an uncomfortable mixture of empathy and awkwardness.

"So," Sakura began, poking a dry, gnarled twig into the blaze. "Where are you from?"

She glanced up expectantly at his unchanged face, wondering what thoughts were swirling behind his perfectly composed features. Itsuo took a while to reply. His eyes gazed steadily at the ever-changing flames; the reflection flickered and danced in their depths.

"Why the sudden interest?" he replied without any real inflection. Sakura sensed vaguely that she was treading on thin ice by broaching the topic of Itsuo's past but she needed answers. Itsuo was an unfamiliar shinobi. She had no knowledge of his past or his motives and that made him dangerous.

"I'm just curious," Sakura answered a little defensively. She waited expectantly for an answer but Itsuo remained stock still; only the rise and fall of his chest confirmed that he was still breathing. "If I'm being completely honest, Itsuo," she continued hesitantly. "I need to know more about you before deciding if I can trust you".

He looked up, as if seeing her for the first time. After a long hard minute, he finally spoke.

"I can see your point," he conceded reluctantly. The medic stared at him silently, analysing his every move. "But it's not that easy. There are some things that I cannot discuss with you. The reasons are complicated. As for whether you trust me or not," he shrugged. "That is entirely up to you".

Sakura grimaced. He made it sound so easy. Asking her to go on faith alone was impossible; he must know that. She ground her teeth together in frustration. She was determined to wring some answers out of the evasive, dark-haired man.

She tried a different tack. "You're a shinobi, aren't you?"

"Yes," he admitted cautiously. "Though I'm no longer affiliated with a village."

The medic turned her head slightly to hide her brief satisfaction. Once she was sure her features had assumed a fairly normal expression, she twisted back to face him. "And what village was that?" she pressed eagerly, her face flushed with anticipation.

"I've told you all you need to know".

"You've told me nothing," she said bitterly. "If we are to be partners we can have no secrets".

"We're not discussing this," Itsuo said in a tone that left no room for argument.

Sakura wearily covered her eyes with one hand; an indication of her mental exhaustion. The conversation was going nowhere fast and she was in no mood for games.

"All I'm asking of you is a little honesty, Itsuo," she said irately. "I deserve that at least".

Itsuo exhaled and pinched the bridge of his nose exasperatedly. "It's not that simple, Sakura". His dark eyes penetrated her gaze. "I do not expect you to divulge the reasons for you leaving your village. All I ask is that you respect my wishes too".

Heat flushed to Sakura's cheeks as she experienced a startling combination of anger and even shame. She hadn't thought of it in those terms and only now that he'd opened her up to this new viewpoint did she feel that she was being slightly unreasonable. But despite these feelings, she knew that her reasons for obtaining information about his past were equally important.

Itsuo broke the uncomfortable silence with a sad smile. "I know this must be hard for you but hearing my story will not make things easier".

Sakura opened her mouth in protest, determined not to give up but Itsuo had already swept past her into the night. Only then did she realise that her hands were balled into fists. She flexed her stiff fingers slowly, noticing the deep imprints her nails had left on her skin. She worried her lip unconsciously as her mind processed the scene of a few minutes before. Though she'd never admit it, a part of her almost pitied the man. At times he seemed almost sad or regretful and his frequent silences appeared to correlate with these two emotions. She might be wrong but, she had a feeling that he was suffering as much as she was.

As soon as she came to that conclusion, her decision was made. She would drop the subject, for now. Fighting with him was pointless. Perhaps when he was in a different mood, he would be more forthcoming and she would never ask him directly again. Clearly he trusted her as little as she did him. She could change that.

And she would start tonight.

She found him sitting on the crest of the hill, observing the countryside silently. At her approach, he barely turned his head, his features mask-like. Sakura, expecting some form of hostility slid silently next to him and without looking at him said timidly, "I thought you might be cold". She handed him a brown rough-spun blanket. He took it wordlessly, not glancing her way once. Sakura's mouth twitched upwards into a small smile as she sensed his surprise and confusion.

"I never thanked you for earlier," she twisted a piece of grass awkwardly as she spoke.

"It was nothing," was Itsuo's flat reply.

"Not to me," Sakura disagreed. She didn't dare meet his eyes for fear that he would detect the lie within them. "You saved my life". She tried to smile but stopped quickly when it came out as a grimace. She hoped that her voice sounded insincere to her ears alone. There was no reply. Sakura could feel her chance slipping away; whatever demons Itsuo had to contend with clearly took precedence over her company. It crossed her mind that he could be simply ignoring her. The night breeze was as chilly as Itsuo's prolonged silence and Sakura was starting to get a little irritated. For her plan to work though, she mustn't lose her temper.

She rose silently and tentatively wrapped her arms around his motionless form for a brief hug. She felt him stiffen at her touch, perversely satisfied at the effect she was having on him. She couldn't have known that her deceitful hug was the first he'd received in almost nine years.

"Goodnight, Itsuo," she said, her voice barely a whisper over the cold, biting wind. She picked her way back down the misshapen hill, never once daring to look back. But if she had, she would have seen a tortured expression claim his attractive face upon remembering the last display of affection that he had recieved. His clenched fists unfurled, releasing his hold on the loose dirt and stones that had been reduced to dust. Not in Sakura's wildest dreams could she hope to understand the pain of what he had lost.

* * *

Soft footsteps swished across the smooth, mahogany floor breaking the stillness of the morning. The sound was familiar and nostalgic to Neji's mind. They put him in mind of earlier, more carefree days. The footsteps ceased a mere two paces from him and he forced himself to look up at the impassive face of Hiashi Hyuuga; his uncle and the current head of the Hyuuga clan. Notorious for his strict morals and the elevated standards that he expected of his own kin, Neji wondered if he was going to be congratulated or reprimanded. Hiashi rarely praised anyone and although his praise was seen as the highest regard in the family, Neji wished that he would not have to endure anymore thanks from his gratified family.

It was a struggle to get from one end of the compound to the other without encountering at least one relative who had yet to praise him on his bold and innovative mind without which the Hyuuga clan could never have gained such high standing. Even worse were those who treat him with fervent respect and even awe. Neji was sick of the reverential bows and smiles as though he was their saviour instead of the man that betrayed half of Konoha. He sighed. He did not regret his actions, at least from a logical standpoint, but he wished that his sensei and teammates had not died.

The wooden chair squeaked noisily across the cool floor, jerking Neji from his gloomy thoughts. He abandoned tracing the pattern in the wood with his eyes and forced them instead to meet his uncle's. It was astonishing how the years had turned Hiashi's expression permanently severe. A river of lines was etched across his forehead and the only indication of his mood was how deeply the lines were folded. Thankfully today it was relatively smooth so Neji could hazard a guess that he was about to receive some form of gratitude. If truth be told, he'd been dreading this for days. He suppressed a deep sigh.

"As the head of our noble house, I would like to formally express my appreciation for the sacrifice you have made for our clan," Hiashi began slowly.

"Sacrifice?" Neji asked uncertainly.

"We understand the dangers you faced in becoming a spy for Danzou. It was at great risk considering what could have happened if you had been discovered. What you did showed a great amount of ingenuity, bravery and above all else, complete dedication for the well-being of our clan," he continued. Neji thought he sensed a slight resentment to his tone, probably because his own daughter, instead of bringing honour to the family, had shamed them by siding with the rebels. It had become a taboo to mention Hinata's name inside the walls of this large compound, and certainly not in hearing of the great Hiashi Hyuuga. "And the Hyuuga clan always rewards its members, which is why we are offering you a place on the council".

Hiashi's pale eyes watched Neji expectantly, under the impression that he was bestowing upon him a great honour. A few weeks ago Neji would have been overcome with surprise and gratitude, for being on the council was one of the highest honours a member of the clan could receive. Not to mention that only those with exceptional wisdom or prowess were ever accorded this high honour and that those lucky enough to succeed were usually offered a position at twenty-five years old at the very earliest. Neji was no fool. He knew that the council only desired him for his valuable insight into the Hokage's council, of which he was also privy to. But to decline would be viewed as a slight against his clan and he knew by experience that it was easier to go along with them, than fight against them.

"You do me a great honour uncle," Neji replied in what he hoped were humbled tones. "I accept your offer. I will continue my duty in serving the needs of our clan, whatever it requires".

Hiashi nodded approvingly. "Which brings me to my second offer".

Neji resisted the urge to clutch the edges of his seat in alarm. A second offer? The position on the clan wasn't completely unexpected given his position but he had not the slightest inkling what this second offer could be. He watched his uncle intently, hoping to glean something from Hiashi's impassive face.

"Equally important to serving the clan is ensuring that we preserve outstanding natural talents that are a credit to our family. As a prime target for the rebel shinobi, there is little opportunity for you to shine in the field," he said. Like steel bands tightening and constricting around his chest, a strong sense of anxiety gripped Neji. He did not know what his uncle was driving at but he had a feeling he was not going to like it. "An unfortunate side effect of elevating our family, but no matter. I have other plans for you. I propose a marriage between you and Fumiko, daughter of one of Danzou's most trusted advisors". Neji sank a little lower in his chair. "A meeting can be arranged in order for you to meet. I hope she is to your taste". Hiashi smiled, not unkindly. "I know that marriage is probably the last thing on your mind right now, but if you are truly committed to serving the clan then I hope you will consent".

"Thank you for the offer," Neji struggled to keep his tone even, his mind reeling with shock. "I will need some time to think about the offer before I can reply".

"Of course," Hiashi answered smoothly.

Neji rose steadily from his seat and bowed to his uncle, concealing his eagerness to escape the stuffy atmosphere. He was almost at the door when Hiashi spoke.

"Your father would be proud of you".

Neji froze, hand on the door frame. That his father would be proud of him, he was certain. Hizashi had given his life to protect his twin brother and the clan. But would his father be sympathetic if he understood the turmoil that was rushing though him: the dominant need to protect his family warring with the abhorrent idea of signing his life away to a woman he had never met and the feeling of ill-usage. That no matter what he did it was never enough.

He thanked Hiashi and back out of the room, unnerved by this new turn of events. The Hyuuga clan were attempting to strengthen their hold on him, make certain that he was "their" man so to speak. He walked past a couple of relatives in an apparent daze, struggling to fight back the tremors that were threatening to overwhelm his body. He marched urgently towards the twin gates that marked the boundary of the compound, ignoring the curious stares and funny looks. Blood thrummed rhythmically in his ears, drowning out the inconsequential chatter of shinobi milling around on the veranda.

He barely noticed where he was going until his feet came to a halt outside the innocuous-looking concrete building which housed all of Konoha's prisoners subject to interrogation. Shit. This was the last place he wanted to be. He ground his teeth in frustration. The girl had flown completely from his mind until this moment, wrapped up as he was in his own affairs. A sickening wave of guilt washed over him; his worries seemed rather trivial in comparison to hers.

Realising that he would look rather foolish if discovered dithering around the outside of the interrogation centre, Neji took a deep breath and forced himself to push open the oppressive, prison-like doors with a firm pale hand. He couldn't explain even to himself why he was so determined to see her. All he knew was that he couldn't stand seeing the completely justified accusation in her blue eyes. And he hated to admit it but he admired the sparkling determination that continued to burn within them regardless of the torments she had been subjected to.

An unbearable stench assaulted his nostrils upon entering the small, darkened cell but he restrained from holding his nose. In a roundabout way, it was his fault that she was in here and he wouldn't discredit her further by showing his distaste. A clatter of tiny claws alerted him to the fact that she wasn't the only inhabitant of this cell.

"Why?"

The hoarse whisper made him flinch and he forced himself to look at her. Her usually luxurious locks were a tangled nightmare. The colour was almost impossible to tell in the dim light, further hindered by the mass of dirt and congealed blood that stained it. Her bones jutted out from sparrow-like shoulders and her legs looked stick thin. Last of all, he looked into her face. An assortment of bruises decorated her face and her lip was swollen and bleeding.

"Why?" She hissed, more strongly this time. Her face was screwed up in anger and her fists were clenched so tightly, Neji thought they might bleed.

"Ino, I-"

"You're what, sorry?" She jeered. "Everything that has happened is because of you! People's families, friends and teammates... their blood is on your hands, Neji".

"Shut the fuck up," Neji growled through closed teeth. "You know nothing".

"Why are you here?" Ino asked in wearied tones. A violent, wet cough caused her to stop her tirade for an instant. "Is this some sick pleasure of yours? Or are you just coming to admire your handiwork?"

"Neither," Neji answered.

"Did you come to apologise then?" Ino said derisively, her laughter transforming into a quick succession of more aggressive coughs.

"I am sorry that you chose the path of a traitor, nothing more".

"Who are you to talk of honour and loyalty, Neji? You are the very epitome of a traitor," she spat disgustedly. She picked the dirt from her ruined nails irritably. "Get out. I'm sick of your lies".

Neji stared wordlessly at her before turning on his heel. The heavy door clanged ominously and Ino was plunged in darkness once more.

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